Black Feathers
by Iwovepizza
Summary: The Gold Swords are an association that is known for trapping angels and taking their wings. Jason Grace is a part of this organization, but only so he can pay off his debts with the profit he makes by selling the wings on the black market. When he meets an angel named Perseus with huge black wings that will fetch a high price, what will happen if he befriends him? AU
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N) Hello, everyone. My name is Iwovepizza, nice to meet you. This is one of my first AU story and I'm hoping that you'll like it. I have been waiting a long time to write this, but I had been working on two other fanfictions at once, so now that I have finished one of those stories, I can now present to you this one. **

**Disclaimer: Do I look like the middle-aged man who owns the PJO and HOO series? No, so therefor I am no Rick. I own none of this. BUT I DO OWN THE PLOT. THIS IS AN ORIGINAL PLOT AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED AND I HAVE THE RIGHTS TO IT. **

To Jason Grace, who had been hunting angels for more than two years now, he didn't have what most people referred to as "mercy." Mercy was a weakness when it came to hunting the beasts, who would try to manipulate you into letting them go every chance they got. The key was to block out their voices; if you didn't you'd lose your catch. It wasn't like Jason was actually killing the angels; it was impossible to do so, for they were immortal. All he wanted was their wings.

Jason and his older sister, Thalia, had been drowning in poverty and debt their entire lives. Ever since their father left and their mother, an alcoholic, had passed on, every day had been a struggle to earn money. Jason worked two jobs during the day, one as a waiter and the other as a cashier in the local Walmart. It wasn't easy to find a job due to the fact that he'd been forced to drop out of high school, and had so little money that the thought of college couldn't haunt him in even his wildest dreams. Both jobs didn't give him much of a profit and he spent every single dollar that he'd ever made working on paying off the crippling debt.

With the combined salary of his sister's two jobs, they were paying it off little by little. The jobs were strictly for paying off the debt; they couldn't afford to buy new things if it meant that the debt couldn't be paid off as soon as possible. They'd needed another source of money in order to buy food and replace raggedy clothes, and Jason had found it through a stranger that he'd met on the street two years ago.

Even when he was fifteen he knew that talking to strangers wasn't the best thing to do, especially in his neighborhood, where most of it was simply slums. There were various frequenters that hung around the area that offered candy, the "candy" being crack, cocaine, meth, and devil's weed, with a bit of heroin and marijuana thrown into the mix just to make it interesting. He knew that if you decided to sit down for a "beer" with them, you'd be as high as a kite when you finally stumbled away with flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

As you could predict, one of these people, known to the locals as "Candymen," walked up to him. He was a rather buff guy, with thick, corded muscles and a wicked scar down his face. His blonde hair, which was a sandier blonde than Jason's honey blonde hair, stuck up in some places, probably due to a tussle with some of the other Candymen.

"Cigarette?" was the first thing he asked as he pulled out a pack of Marlboro and lit a joint, offering it to him. Jason shook his head and turned to walk away, but felt him put a hand on my shoulder. Jason tensed up, for Candymen usually didn't touch people they offered to unless they were super pissed off for some reason. If you were not interested, they'd try a trick or two but would ultimately let you go if you stood your ground. "The name's Luke."

"Hello, Luke." Jason said in a tight voice. He really didn't need to know this guy's name. It probably wasn't even his real name; just a street name of some sort. "I really need to be going-" Luke moved in front of him before he could leave. Jason gulped and Luke pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, exhaling a cloud of grey fumes and then flicking it away, where it smoked on the dirt-ridden sidewalk until it eventually was snuffed out.

Luke leaned in, his breath hot on Jason's face. "Listen, kid. I know potential when I see it. You look like you could use a job." he gestured to the teenager's ragged grey shirt and mangled jeans. Jason was about to point out to Luke that his clothes were just as tattered, but he kept his lips sealed. He didn't want to fight with one of the Candymen. What if he was a part of one of the many local gangs? Jason would be minced meat if he took even one false step out of line around this guy. Slowly, he nodded. Luke gave him a crooked smile, revealing teeth that were surprisingly intact despite the fact that he probably got into at least three fistfights a day.

"I'm not talking drug dealing, if that's what you're thinking." Luke said in a low voice. "I'm talking angel hunting." Jason regarded look for a moment, searching he face to see how high he was off of the drugs he sold, or how drunk he was. However his blue eyes were clear, shining with intelligence, and his face was far from flushed, pale even.

"Um, I'll pass." he said while slowly backing away from the crazy guy. Luke took a step forward and Jason backed up a little more, his eyes darting around to look for a possible opening from which he could escape.

"I'm serious." Luke replied, his voice now a growl. "And it wasn't an offer, it was an order." Jason crossed his eyes to look down the barrel of the hand gun he'd just produced from his belt. "You're coming with me." The teenager gulped and put his hands behind his head. He walked obediently down the street and felt the cold metal of the gun pressing in between his shoulder blades. He involuntarily shivered. What was he going to do? Thalia would be worried sick if he didn't get home before dark. She'd be hysterical. What if Luke intended to kill him? All of these thoughts rattled inside Jason's skull as Luke prodded him along.

People who passed by didn't bat an eyelid as a buff blonde guy hustled a rather smaller, scrawnier blonde guy along at gunpoint. To them it was simply a normal occurrence in this town, and most of the people he saw were probably gangsters. Luke led Jason down an alley, looking around warily to see if anyone had followed. The cops here were horrible; they looked the other way when they saw crimes like these in action because they probably purchased drugs off of the people committing the crime. Jason knew that the cops were useless when he saw them in their police cruiser smoking joints and having a beer or two.

"Stay here and don't move, or a bullet is gonna find a way through your skull." Luke growled and turned to face the brick wall. Jason trembled against the brick wall, his handshaking violently. Luke couldn't have specifically wanted him. He had just been one of the unlucky ones that happened to be passing by; Luke would've probably done this to anyone, but it just had to be Jason that had been there at that moment.

Luke ran his hand over the brick wall and Jason was sure that he was somehow intoxicated, even if he didn't show any signs of it. He hadn't staggered or stumbled and he could walk in a straight line. Could he just be plain crazy? Luke found one of the bricks that jut out a little farther than the rest and pushed on it. There was a sound like a beep coming from the building to their right and one of the windows opened.

"Climb the dumpster and get inside." he snarled and nudged Jason with his gun. He knew that there was the chance that the gun wasn't loaded, that Luke was just bluffing, but he didn't want to test his luck. Jason clambered up the dumpster and slipped through the window, which was surprisingly low to the ground. Luke followed, his gun still trained on his hostage's back, and closed the window behind him.

It was fairly dim in the room that he and Luke had clambered into. Weak sunlight filtered through the windows that had excess grime and dust gathered on the panes, casting sickly yellow squares of light on the bare floor. There wasn't any furniture as far as Jason could see, and there wasn't anyone else inside the building besides him and Luke. It was completely silent. Jason's captor marched him forward, growling for him to speed up or slow down with an 'or else I'll shoot' after every order. Jason's heart was beating so loudly that he was afraid that Luke would hear it and take even more advantage over his fear.

They reached a door and Luke opened it, gesturing towards the stairs that wound down to a lower floor. Jason gulped and begun his descent, with Luke not far behind. Their footsteps echoed through the silent building and faded away like a dying scream. Blood roared in Jason's ears and he tried to concentrate on anything from the incredibly hopeless situation that he was in right now. The walls were painted a bland, faded beige and in many areas the paint was chipped and cracked. Several bugs skittered by and electric lights hung here and there, emitting a faint and droning buzz as they brightened and dimmed.

Jason and Luke reached the door and filed inside the room beyond. This room, unlike the room that they had just been in, was illuminated by candles. Shuffling could be heard as Luke escorted Jason towards the sound of hushed whispers and he could see the faint outline of human silhouettes in the faint darkness.

"Well what do we have here?" asked one of the indistinguishable people. The voice was clearly male and had a rather tantalizing and taunting tone. Jason could clearly picture the mischievous smile on the owner of the voice. "Looks like we got ourselves a newbie."

The hostage finally found his voice. With clenched fists he asked, "What am I doing here?" There was a chorus of chuckles, including one from Luke, and Jason heard the sound of matches being lit. Pretty soon torches blazed around the group and illuminated the forms of five people. They were wearing all black and surprisingly their clothes were intact, and leather. _If they had enough money to afford black leather jackets, what were they doing here in this mess of a town? _Jason thought in confusion. That's when his eyes drifted behind them. He opened his mouth in a silent scream that never reached him lips.

Behind the people was a glass case that stretched the length of the wall and rose to the ceiling. Jason could process what his eyes were seeing. He rubbed them to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, but when he looked up again they were still there. Inside the case, glittering like two stars, were a set of wings. They were each twenty feet long and composed of thousands of downy white feathers. That wasn't the worst part, though; they clearly looked severed. Near the base of the wings, were it would usually connect to the body of the animal, it was jagged and torn, as if they'd been ripped out. The feathers around the area were crusted with dried blood and Jason saw the circle of flesh surrounding bone.

They couldn't be real. But the more Jason looked at them, the more genuine they seemed. Each feather shimmered in the light of the torches, but he had a feeling that this shimmer was much duller than the shimmer when they were attached. _But to what exactly? _Jason asked himself.

"I see that you've noticed our prize. Yes, these wings can fetch for over six million dollars, but we keep them because they are one of our biggest sets of wings." One of the people, a girl, said. She had curly, honey blonde hair and calculating grey eyes that sparkled with cold, deadly intelligence. "Apparently you're here because Luke here thought that you might be worth training."

"I don't know what's going on here." Jason desperately tried to fight the quivering out of his voice, but to no prevail. The five people, now six due to the fact that Luke had joined them, chuckled amongst themselves as if they were old friends sharing an inside joke. Jason knew that he could make a break for it; the door was wide open and Luke wasn't there behind him, but even so all of the people in this room besides him were armed; Jason could see the glimmer of knives and daggers in their belts and all of them had holsters hanging by their hips.

"Listen, you've been brought here for a reason. You have the potential to become an angel hunter. Like us." the blonde girl told him.

"So you mean that those wings are-" Jason was cut off by the voice that had greeted him earlier; the one that had sounded mischievous.

"Angel wings." he replied proudly. Jason turned to see that it had come from a rather scrawny boy. He looked funny in all black, along with all the weapons that he was carrying that altogether weighed heavier than him. He had curly brown hair and brown eyes that were filled with a rowdy and mischievous light. Jason knew it was probably best if he avoided him.

"You kill angels?" he hissed. "Who would do that?"

"Us." was the boy's snarky reply. "We need the money. Do you know how much a set of average-sized angel wings can go for?" Jason shook his head. "One. Million. Dollars." He stiffened. One million dollars? He could use the money, for both him and Thalia. They wouldn't be in poverty anymore. They could pay off their debt. They could by a mansion far away from here and live in the lap of luxury just in exchange for a few sets of angel wings. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Of course you have to go through a year's worth of training before you can actually get to the hunting part. Angels are dangerous as well as beautiful, kid. But we want you to join us. We can be your family." Luke told Jason, for the first time since they'd confronted each other his voice gentle.

"I have a sister that I need to take care of. I have debt and two jobs and I can't pile angel hunting on top of that." he replied, looking down glumly.

"It'll just be a night job. You don't have to do it if you don't want to." the blonde girl said reassuringly. Jason thought of all the opportunities of a good life slipping away if he'd denied. Would he ever be happy if he didn't become an angel hunter? After a long period of silent thinking and deliberation, Jason looked up at the six people who were watching him expectantly.

"I'll do it."


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N) I am so glad that this story is getting support. I was surprised that some of you liked it, for I don't know much people who appreciate AUs. And I also am apologizing if I accidentally switch POV's; I am so used to writing in first Person that my 3****rd**** person has become a little rusty, so please excuse me if I make a mistake and accidentally write 'me' or 'I' or 'us.' Just a warning: all of the other chapters are going to be much longer than the first chapter. It was more of a prologue than a chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO or HOO, however I do own the plot.**

**Note: This chapter was split into two chapters because it would be too long if I condensed it into one chapter, so don't panic if this chapter ends a little abruptly. **

Jason lay awake in his bed, the thin sheets offering no warmth whatsoever. He curled his toes as the cold nipped at his bare feet, but was used to the feeling. Thalia was in the bed on the opposite wall, her back to him. Since she had learned about his job as an angel hunter, she had been appalled. She refused to talk to him now and basically did her best to avoid him, all the while saying, "You have no heart. How could you saw off the wings of such beautiful creatures? You're not my brother. You're a monster."

It was Sunday, Jason's day off from both angel hunting and his two other jobs. It was one of the only times he had the chance to relax and get a good night's rest, but he couldn't get to sleep, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't help but remember his year of initiation. It had been a difficult one, but it was all worth it. Jason thought back to the hours upon hours of training, whether it be hand-to-hand combat or using weapons such as guns, knives, and swords. He was forced to train all night for six days a week, drilling moves and tactics over and over and over again. With his memories in mind, Jason drifted off to sleep. And just like that, he was thrown back in time.

_"__I'm surprised you came back, newbie. I was betting that you'd chicken out. Angel hunting isn't a walk in the park, you know." Jason's instructor, Leo Valdez, told his trainee. He had been the one with the mischievous smile and eyes that glittered with waywardness. It was Jason's first day as an initiate for the organization, which he had learned was called the Golden Swords from Leo. He had yet to learn that Leo could fight like a demon if he needed to and could take Jason down in combat, despite the fact that he was a few inches shorter. _

_ "__It's good to be back, I guess." Jason replied and looked around. Leo had taken him through a door that had branched off the room with the white angel wings displayed in the glass case, which was the meeting room. Now the scrawny Latino boy was leading him down a long, narrow corridor. Electric lights that were dimming and flickering were set at ten foot intervals, giving the hallway that this-is-either-a-haunted-insane-asylum-or-a-jail-with-demons-in-it kind of look._

_Leo turned right at an intersection and stopped Jason in front of a heavily protected door. There were latches, padlocks, chains, finger scanners, and other securities that let everyone know that there was something important behind the door. Leo leaned in, his eyes dead serious. "Listen, Jason. If you walk in here and it's all too much for you, then you're not fit for this job. This is what angel hunting is all about." Jason was confused for a moment and watched in bewilderment as Leo produced a key from his belt and unlocked all of the padlocks. The chains slipped to the ground and he scanned his finger on the door, listening for the faint click that told him that he'd been given entry. _

_Leo pushed the door open and Jason staggered a little as bright light made him momentarily go blind. He stumbled inside and Leo locked the door behind them. Jason blinked the spots out of his eyes and the image came into focus. He nearly gasped. It was a huge room, at least thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, but that wasn't the thing that made it unique; mounted on the walls were hundreds of pairs of angel wings. Jason was awed at the vast collection, but was also aware of the fact that this meant that hundreds of angels were wandering the world without wings, unable to fly back to Heaven._

_The angel wings varied in size and color. Jason saw a set of bright blue wings that were speckled with navy. Another set of wings was enormous, almost the size of the wings in the meeting room. They were the colors of a glorious sunset, streaked with reds, yellows, and blues. There were all sorts of colors, ranging from classic white to dapple grey and even all the colors of the rainbow. There was one set of wings that sparkled so brightly Jason had to avert his eyes. _

_ "__This is..." he struggled to find the right word for it. He could describe it as morbid and horrible, but there was also the beauty of the wings and the sheer amount of them that gave Jason vertigo. "…amazing." Leo gave a lopsided grin and gestured for him to follow. There were also glass cases that ran around the wall for wings that could not be hung up. There were also pedestals in the middle of the room, with wings that Jason could reach out and brush his hand over. _

_He was surprised at how soft and downy they were for things that could launch angels into the sky and carry them away in seconds. "Most of these angels put up quite a fight." Leo told him as he gestured to all the wings around him. "In a few days the seven of us will wrap all of these in tarps, go to the Whisper and sell em'." _

_ "__What's the Whisper?" Jason asked. He had a feeling that it wasn't anything good. _

_ "__It's like a pub, a strip club, a casino, and a nightclub all smashed together. It's down one of the alleys on Seraph Road." Leo replied, his voice filled with cold humor. "It's certainly not one that you would wish to venture into alone. More Candymen in there than there are out on the streets. The air is filled with the smell of tobacco and there are bound to be encounters with drunkards. Prostitutes everywhere. And strippers, both male and female."_

_ "__Why are we going here again?" the initiate hissed. He knew that no decent man or woman would go to the Whisper, and even though he was going to live a life that involved stripping angels of their wings, he didn't want to hang out in the same place that involved people stripping off their clothes. Eventually he'd lose what civility he had left. Leo smirked a smirk that was filled with harsh coldness and malice, unlike his usually goofy grin. It sent chills up and down Jason's spine. _

_ "__Because it's the hub of the black market. It's not like we can sell these babies out in the open like people do with drugs around here." he chuckled without humor. "People flock to us like flies to honey. We're paid handsomely, too. It's a win-win-situation"_

The memory changed.

_"__The angel's only weakness is flight." Luke told Jason and gestured to the dummy in front of them. It was larger and more muscular than most dummies, probably to represent the fact that angels were more powerful and harder to attack than a regular human. Two wings, which were represented by ripped fabric hanging off of two metal poles, were attached to the dummy's back. _

_ "__I thought that flight would be a strength." Jason replied, regarding the dummy with his cold blue eyes. _

_ "__It is on some levels, but when it comes down to it, it's more of a burden than a benefit. Angels depend too much on flying, and they know it. If you keep them from flying, they are rendered helpless. It is difficult to keep them grounded, though; they are familiar with the fact that most enemies concentrate on trying to prevent them from flying rather than fighting. They simply fly away, choosing flight over fight." Luke explained. _

_ "__But if we have to keep them from flying, then we have to somehow damage their wings, and that will bring down the price they go for." Jason replied in bewilderment. _

_ "__There are other ways of keeping an angel down, you know. We have this," Luke walked to the wall, which was covered with mounted weapons, and selected one of the larger ones. "This will definitely cause them to fall. If shot with this while in the air, they'll drop like stones." _

_He aimed the weapon at the dummy and pulled the trigger. A loud bang sent Jason's ears ringing, but that was nothing compared to his shock as a thick chain was launched at the dummy. On both ends were large, spherical weights that looked pretty heavy. The chain wrapped around the dummy's torso with enough force to send a pro wrestler staggering. If it hadn't been bolted to the floor, it sure would have fallen over. _

_"__Sadly angels are quick and agile in the air, and if they see it coming they'll dodge it like nobody's business. We don't really use this weapon at all; even if we used it for surprise attacks, the loud bang will only alert them of our presence." Luke told Jason. _

_"__Then what weapon do you use?" Jason questioned as his fighting instructor unwound the chain from the dummy's torso and loaded it back into the weapon. Luke traded it for a handgun. _

_"__We shoot them." he replied with a smirk and fired several shots on the dummy. Every single one found their mark. Jason gasped and clamped his hand over his mouth, causing Luke to chuckle. "They don't die, idiot; they're immortal. They can still feel pain, though, and they'll spiral to the ground if you can get a few good shots to the body." He turned to Jason, his blue eyes glittering. "Angels are nasty creatures, kid. Don't let their pretty faces and wings fool you. Behind that soft appearance is a cold-blooded monstrosity. Trust me when I say they deserve to suffer." _

**(A/N) You can take a reading break, now. Go to the bathroom, eat something. You can go on when you're ready. Think of this as a checkpoint.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot! Not the characters and/or other books I may randomly refer to.**

**Note: Remember that Jason is still dreaming about past events that happened!**

The memory changed yet again. It was like a montage.

_"__Okay, Jason. It's your first hunt, but you're still in training; we're hunting as a group, but the rest of the time we all go our separate ways. The more people on the hunt, the more likely you are to alert the angel of your presence." Luke explained. The seven members of the Golden Swords were gathered in the alley, shuffling nervously. No matter how many times they went hunting, it was still a process that caused their stomachs to do flip-flops. It was even more so to Jason, who had only seen angels in pictures and had only practiced on dummies and his teammates, who could not fly like the angel could. Fighting an actual angel would be a whole new experience, and a dangerous one at that. _

_Jason had learned that, depending on the type of angel, they could destroy you in countless lovely ways. There were six types of angels; fallen angels, death angels, messenger angels, fire angels, guardian angels, and Archangels, all of which were super deadly. Jason remembered the words that Luke had told him at one of his lessons: _

_"__All of the angels I just listed can squash you like a bug, except for Archangels, though fallen angels aren't a problem for us; they hate angels and some of them are our number one buyers when we sell wings at the Whisper." _

_"__But I thought that archangels were almighty." Jason had said. "Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Azrael; they're like the head honchos. Aren't they supposed to be all-powerful?" _

_"__They are. They can't squash us like a bug because we don't hunt them." Luke had replied, his tone stony and his face solemn. "Even then, only Azrael regularly descends from Heaven, for his job is to claim souls and bring them to purgatory, with the help of the lesser death angels. There is a rule that we can never, ever hunt Archangels. They are too strong and too powerful; challenging one will only result in your destruction and a one-way ticket to Hell. Other angels cannot banish you to Hell, since that is the Archangels' decisions. We don't hunt them; we hide and pray that they don't find us." _

What if we accidentally attack an Archangel? What if there's a flaw in the strategy and one of us ends up losing our life? _Jason thought and looked around at his comrades, which had indeed become like a second family. Of course Leo and Luke were among the mix, but there were others. _

_The blonde girl that had reassured Jason when he had first met the Golden Swords was named Annabeth Chase. She was like the leader; a calm, collected braniac that could fight tooth and nail if it meant that she succeeded. That's why angel hunting was so risky; if the angel got away they could report the Golden Swords to the Archangels, but if they were able to hack their wings off, they couldn't fly back. So far no angel got in a scuffle with a member of the Golden Swords and made it out with their wings. _

_Luke, whose last name Jason had discovered was Castellan, was in charge of training and helped Annabeth create fighting tactics. He had received his nasty scar when he tussled with a death angel and refused to give up until the angel's grey wings were mounted on his wall, and they remained there to this day. Jason had no idea why there were no angels with black wings, for it seemed customary to think that all death angels had jet-black wings like bottomless pits. "In all my years of angel hunting I have never seen an angel with completely black wings. Sure, I've seen a death angel or two with black wings speckled with white or gold, but never an angel with feathers that were entirely black. Sure, maybe Azrael has black wings, but he's an Archangel; an exception." Luke had told him. He was excellent with a sword and probably the most skilled and gifted fighter out of all of the Golden Swords. _

_But the second in command was a poker-faced girl named Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano. She and Jason had become very close during his time of training and she'd even take up the job as his trainer when Luke was out angel hunting or had fallen ill. Her fighting was like a deadly dance, though the one who fumbled their footing would likely be the one to wind up at the end of the sword. It had been mostly Jason who found himself going cross-eyed to see the blade leveled in front of him. Even so, Jason trusted Reyna with his life. _

_Leo Valdez was the one who was good with tools. He made all the weapons, the traps, and even the glass cases that were custom-made for every set of wings brought in. He could usually be found in the huge forge connected to the Golden Swords' facility and he rarely came out. Reyna had mockingly claimed that he was more skilled with communicating with machines than living things. _

_He was rusty when it came to fighting, but he played his part in the hunt by setting the traps beforehand; the most common style of angle hunting was waiting until one of the traps had been sprung and them ambushing. How did Leo lure the angels in? With demon parts, which were also sold on the black market. All angels were born to hunt demons, and if there was any sign of a demon lurking around they would check it out. Leo bought demon hair and scales, sometimes even demon feces; anything that a demon would naturally leave behind._

_A trap would be set around it and once the angel was in close enough range, they were goners, usually ending up hog-tied with iron ropes or caught in nets. Leo also had come out with a model similar to a bear trap, but Luke had discontinued it, for it left the angel with a mangled ankle or even a severed foot. "We don't want the angels to suffer, we just want its wings. Injuring one to the point that it is both physically and mentally suffering is the lowest of crimes, even for us." he had said with an icy tone. _

_The last two members of the team were Gwendolyn and Dakota. They refused to give their last names, claiming that if any other member of the Golden Swords were ever captured by angels and tortured, they wouldn't be able to give them exact names. Jason would've dubbed them paranoid, but he could see where they were coming from. He had no idea what their strengths and backgrounds were, for he rarely hung out with them, preferring to spend time with Leo, Reyna, and Luke. Annabeth rarely left the facility and was a huge bore, not to mention a total downer. _

_The one time he had hung out with Dakota and Gwen, he was told the story of a former member of the Golden Swords. "Octavian." Dakota said, his voice slurred. He was a lover of all things alcohol, but kept his intake in check. "One day he just disappeared without a trace. Annabeth thinks he simply quit his life of angel hunting and retreated back to his family with the money, but I think he was out hunting and confronted an Archangel. He was never keen on deciphering one angel type from another, so he probably attacked it. No wonder why he was never heard from again."_

_The thought of encountering an Archangel absolutely terrified Jason. He shivered despite the fact that it wasn't that cold. He checked to make sure he had all of his weapons and reviewed the plan over and over in his head, along with the backup plans, and the backup plans for the backup plans. Luke had assured him that there had never been any need to use the backup plans; their tactics were foolproof. _

_"__Is everyone ready?" Annabeth asked, her tone formal. Everyone nodded vigorously, eager to get on with the hunt. "You two, newbie?" she said, regarding Jason. _

_"__Yes, ma'am!" the trainee replied, his voice tinged with a note of worry. _

_"__Don't worry, you won't get hurt. I promise." Leo assured him with a pat on the back. Jason just bit his lip and nodded tersely. His first hunt. He'd see his first angel tonight. He wasn't sure if he was excited with the thrill of the hunt, terrified that they'd attack an Archangel, or horrified that he was even participating in such an event. Maybe it was even a combination of all three. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and his heart was racing in his chest. But a wave of calm shot through all the nervousness and the worry. He relaxed and set his jaw, determined to prove that he had what it took to be an angel hunter. _

_That's when a device in Leo's belt began to beep. "The alarm." Leo explained, his tone stony. He, along with the rest of the Golden Swords, had been waiting in dead silence for one of the traps that they'd set up around town to be sprung, their faces grim and emotionless. "It's the trap in the alley on King Street." _

_"__Let's go. Masks on." Reyna ordered and everyone obliged, pulling their masquerade masks over their faces. They were made of pure gold and each member's mask was shaped like a different animal. Reyna's was shaped like a swan with outstretched wings to act as the parts that covered her eyes, which glittered through the small holes carved into the metal._

_Annabeth's masquerade mask was very beautiful, each feather detailed to perfection and mimicking the facial disk of an owl. Her grey eyes watched Jason critically and he could almost see them being the owl's actual eyes. They were full of wisdom and disguised a lethal and deadly skill, hidden behind beauty and a faux look of fragility. _

_Leo's was in the shape of a donkey, probably the least majestic of all of the masks, but Jason had to admit that it suited him well; he could be a real ass at times. He grinned and Jason was glad that the mask only covered his eyes and nose; if it was a full mask it would've looked as creepy as hell in the dark. _

_Dakota's masquerade mask was in the shape of a leopard with fangs poking out from under the upper lip. Of course, since it was a masquerade mask like everyone else's, there was no jaw. Dakota's eyes were rather unfocused, signaling that he'd had a little too much to drink the night before, even though Annabeth and Reyna had specifically ordered him to lay off the alcohol in order to make sure that the hunt was successful. _

_Gwen's mask was just a simple masquerade mask that was not in the shape of an animal. Jason had learned from the little time he had associated with her that she was a person that valued simplicity, and she did not want Annabeth to spend too much money on her gold mask, despite the fact that the leader was rich off the money that angel wings fetched for. _

_Last but not least, Jason's mask was in the shape of an eagle. The eagle's beak, like that of his other comrades' bird masks, went down the bridge of his nose and hooked around the apex. When he had first gotten it he had been awestruck. This had been for him. He was officially a part of the team. Luke had watched smugly as he stared at it in wonder. He had never owned something so expensive or beautiful before. _

_If the angels escaped, they wouldn't be able to describe any facial features or even hair color, for the Golden Swords had all pulled their hoods over their heads. In the dark it would make it even harder for the angel to describe them. _

_"__Let's move out." Annabeth ordered and the Golden Swords stalked out of the alley, looking around warily. If any of the locals saw them, they would've assumed that they were one of the many street gangs that wandered the streets in search of their next victim. Jason was aware of all of his arsenal bumping against his thighs. His gun was safely tucked away in its holster and his knives were all in sheathes. He was prepared for anything and everything the angel might throw at him; his clothes, jacket, boots, and masquerade mask were fireproof to protect from fire angels' flames. The soles of his boots were enchanted to prevent death angels from making the earth swallow him up, which was one of their more horrifying abilities. _

_The lamps that were actually working cast dim circles on the ground, illuminating the cracked sidewalk and faded street with a hazy yellow glow. The Golden Swords slipped in and out of the shadows in coordinated unison, using their training to make sure their feet did not make a sound as they walked. Annabeth flattened herself against the wall of a building and everyone followed her lead. She peered around the corner, some of the lamplight reflecting off the gold of her mask and causing it to shimmer. She made a motion that it was all clear and they slunk down King Street, their movements graceful and catlike. _

_Jason's heart beat like a drum and the blood was roaring in his ears. The angel was nearby if Leo's device was correct. That wasn't what he was scared of, though. Even though the wings in the trophy room were pretty to look at, he had never really seen the process that they needed to go through to acquire them. He braced himself for what was coming, because he knew that angels looked human. That they felt pain like humans. That they could feel emotion like humans. They were like elephants being hunted for ivory, except they had to suffer while their immortality prevented death and healed the wounds. _

_That's when he began hearing the sound of struggle. A grunt, a hiss of distaste, a frustrated growl. Annabeth put a finger to her lips and crept towards the alley which the noise was coming from. Jason was so nervous and excited that he nearly tripped over the curb, but Luke steadied him and gave him a look that clearly stated: _I know how you feel. _Annabeth crept around the corner and a grin broke out across her face. _

_"__We caught ourselves a winner." she said over her shoulder and poised herself, striding into the alley with her head held high. The rest drifted behind her like shadows, hesitant but eager to see the prize. Gwen, Dakota, Luke, and Leo parted so Jason could get a good view. He sucked in a breath. The angel was beautiful._

_His jet-black hair was plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat and his eyes that were the color of dark chocolate darted scanned us all. They locked with Jason's and the teenager willed himself to hold his gaze steadily, when in reality he was almost as scared as the angel was. In the end it was the captured creature that looked away. His chest was bare, revealing chiseled abdominal muscles and deep, defined biceps. His shoulders were broad and his features like that of a god. He looked terrified, though, which ruined the image. _

_The angel was wearing torn black jeans and his skin was pale to the point of chalkiness. You could see his panicked breathing by the way his chest rose and fell rapidly and by the panting breathes he managed to take. That's when Jason saw them; two huge wings the color of a stormy sky were folded behind his back, quivering with fear. He looked so human that Jason couldn't even imagine him harming a fly. _

_The poor thing had been forced to his knees as a heavy metal net draped over him with ropes like the cables on bridges, weighing him down. He was noticeably straining to stay upright and not collapse onto his side. Jason knew that angels' strength was not infinite and that they did have their limits, but he couldn't help but expect him to shoulder the net off like it weighed nothing and launch himself at them. The angel, on the other hand, remained motionless as Annabeth approached him. _

_ "__Death angel. Wings are about five feet each. We'd get about five hundred thousand for the both of them." she stated, her voice ringing through the night and echoing down the streets. Even though her voice was low, in the silence of the night it was as if she'd shouted. _

_ "__W-w-what do you mean?" the angel asked, his voice quivering. "I know you're probably a local gang or something but can you get me out? Please?" _

He even talks like a human. I thought he'd be more formal and say stuff like 'thou' and 'thine' but he doesn't. _Jason thought, filling with dread. How could he possibly watch this angel's wings be chopped off? _

_When they didn't answer him, the angel began to tremble, shaking the metal coils that trapped him slightly. "I don't know what's going on." he whimpered, his voice pleading. "But I need to get out. I need to get home." _

Block out his voice, Jason. He's not human, he's a creature. He can live without his wings. He's immortal; he'll live forever without having to worry about death. After a few hundred years he won't even miss them. _Jason said over and over in his mind, but he knew that he didn't sound convincing, even to himself. _

_ "__Hermes? Bacchus?" Annabeth asked. She was using the code names that she had given them. She was Athena, Gwen was Ceres, Leo was Hephaestus, and Jason was Jupiter. Bacchus and Hermes were Dakota and Luke's code names. The two boys advanced and the angel struggled feebly in the net, trying to get out. The feathers on his wings were getting crumpled and Jason cringed at the sight of such beautiful things being ruined. _

_They grabbed the angel's wings and forced them out of the gaps in the nets that were large enough for angel wings but too small for both humans and angels alike to squeeze through. The angel cried out and clawed at them, his nails catching on Luke's cheek. He hissed through gritted teeth as three thin lines of blood trickles out of the shallow marks. _

_ "__What is your name?" Annabeth asked, her voice so cold that it was surprising, even if she was surly most of the time. _

_ "__I am known as The Bringer of Bereavement." the angel spat, his voice filled with aggression. What was left of his scared, skittish self was gone. He bared his teeth and flapped his powerful wings, almost making Dakota and Luke lose their hold on them._

_ "__No, your real name." Annabeth corrected, her eyes glittering like cold grey stars. _

_ "__Then call me Nicolas. My name cannot be spoken by you puny mortals." the angel, Nicolas, growled. Anger towards the angel that Jason didn't know he had in him surged through the trainee's veins. His hands balled into fists at his sides and he so desperately wanted to nail the conceited angel in the face, but he stayed behind Annabeth with Gwen and Leo. He should not move unless ordered to; it was best for his safety and the safety of the rest of the Golden Swords. _

_ "__Alright, Nicolas…can I call you Nico?" Annabeth mocked, her voice merciless to the point where Jason was taken aback. He had never heard his leader talk in such a tone. "Nico, you have something that we want." _

_ "__And what might that be?" Nico snarled. "Because you're certainly not getting it. I can banish you to Hell with a snap of my fingers. You're playing with fire, my friends." _

_ "__No, you cannot, for you aren't an archangel, but merely a lowly death angel. Your ranks will not miss you." Nico visibly paled as Annabeth said this; she had called his bluff and now he was aware of just how much they knew about his kind. _

_ "__What do you mean?" the angel's voice had turned gravelly, probably to hide the fear and astonishment in his voice. Annabeth gave Luke and Dakota a pointed look and they wrestled the angel's wings so that they were pinned to the ground. Luke stood and with one foot keeping the wing down he kicked the writing angel down so that he was on his stomach. The metal cords of the net prevented him from rising again and he cursed his captors and thrashed like nobody's business. _

_ "__Jason, since this is your first hunt I'd like you to do the honors." Annabeth said with icy diction. Jason paled and his hands began to tremble. All the anger from before had left him and he was now afraid of all the mortal sins that would pile on his shoulders as he kept walking down this path. He would go to Hell for sure, but there was always the option to back out; leave and never come back. But that would mean that his and Thalia's debt would pile higher and higher and they'd be left homeless and hungry. Even though his sister now hated him, he still cared about her with all his heart. On top of that, he would have let the Golden Swords down; they were his team, his friends, and his family. They had saw potential in him and had taken him under their wing. Abandoning them would mean throwing away all of the good memories shared with them. Jason could not do that. _

_Annabeth handed him her sword as he stepped forward, and he took it with trembling fingers. He approached the angel, who was slumped on the ground, exhausted from thrashing. Nico looked up, his eyes pleading, but Jason steeled himself and glared back. "Please. Don't. I swear on my immortality that if you let me go and keep my wings I won't tell a single soul. Please." A tear slipped down his cheek and Jason felt his barrier cracking, but immediately erected it once more. He couldn't show mercy to this creature. _

_Jason looked at Luke, who gave him a nod of encouragement. The night sky spread over head like the black pelt of a bear and the stars twinkled down accusingly, like angry Archangels. He thought of what Nico would see in the stars after his wings were severed from his body. Would he see home? Would he see friends? Family? But the feeling would be mutual; agonizing homesickness and sorrow. He wouldn't be able to return to the place he loved; he'd still keep his powers, but he would forever be anchored to the horrible, sin-ridden earth that was no place for an angel. _

_Jason quickly blocked out those thoughts and raised the sword. He saw the muscles on Nico's back tense as he prepared for the worst. _This is for the money Thalia and I need to survive. _Jason told himself and with two quick thrusts the wings were cut. Nico screamed at the top of his lungs and broke down into wails of sorrow and agony. The others moved in and pulled the net from the crumbled form of the angel, whose back was now mutilated with two jagged wing scars. _

_Jason raised the wings up, feeling how surprisingly light they were. Blood was everywhere; it dripped down from the detached wings and soaked into his hood. It came forth in rivers from the horrible wounds that marred Nico's back. His comrades cheered, but Jason didn't feel prod. He felt sickly and tainted. He had just mercilessly chopped off an angel's wings. _

_The Golden swords lifted him onto their shoulders, still carrying the steadily bleeding wings, and marched him back to the facility. He wasn't concentrated on their congratulations and cheering, though; all he was aware of was the horrible wails of Nico as they left him bleeding in the alley, which eventually bubbled into quiet sobbing. _

Jason woke up with a jolt and a blood-curdling scream escaped his throat, the sound of Nico's cries of pain and suffering still ringing in his ears.


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N) Hello again, guys. I am so glad that you like my story (I must have captivated you if you read this far.) I know you're all excited for Percy to come into the story, so here he is! Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, however I do own the plot!**

For Perseus, being an angel was not what people expected it to be. As a messenger angel, he had to go back and forth from Earth to Heaven and back again until his wings were sore and felt like they were going to fall off. It was a little dizzying at times and there were a multitude of occurrences when he nearly got hit by planes. Most angels talked behind Perseus' back, claiming that he was always lost in his own world, and that he didn't deserve to be the personal messenger of Archangel Michael himself.

He managed to ignore the gossip most of the time, but today he was in a particularly sour mood. Yet another angel had gone missing, and this time it had been one of his closest companions, Nicolas. The Archangels had growing suspicions and they were sending messages back and forth across Heaven like bullets, leaving him barely enough time to convey the message before he was sent back with another.

After his fiftieth trip across the cloudy plain, he had to stop for a break. He collapsed onto the roof of a building, massaging his jet black wings that screamed with all of the work. Even so, Perseus could trust and rely on them. They were the best wings he could have ever asked for; they were diligent and able to carry the angel long distances without tiring.

Though the wings did have their limits, he didn't know what life would be like without them. How did humans stay rooted to the ground when the air was where the fun is? How did they walk everywhere until their feet burned and their legs cried out for rest? All of these questions remained unanswered to Perseus, but he couldn't decipher them now; he had a message to deliver back to Archangel Michael from Archangel Gabriel.

He launched himself higher into the sky, relishing the feel of the wind whipping his black hair and beating against his face. With a whoop of delight he did loop-de-loops and barrel rolls until he was so discombobulated he could barely fly in a straight line. Perseus knew that there was a mortal law that you shouldn't drink and drive. In Heaven, it was against the law to drink, let alone drink and fly. He felt like he'd downed a few shots and he felt light-headed, but it wasn't from the high altitude, either.

Mortals would suffocate up here, but angels had adapted to it on top of the fact that they were immortal. It used to feel like they were deprived of oxygen all the time, but their lungs eventually accustomed to it. Through the clouds the palace of Archangel Michael loomed in front of the messenger angel like a giant wall that made mortal structures seem like toys. Perseus raised the hand with the scroll clenched inside of it and the guards, which were most likely fire angels or death angels, opened the gates for him to enter.

He could see them gawking at his jet-black wings, for he was the only angel in the entirety of the kingdom of Heaven that had fully black wings. Maybe his children would inherit his wing color, or his children's children, but he hadn't met any female angel that suited him quite yet, even after ten thousand years. Of course, it was forbidden for angels to fall in love with mortals, but many of Percy's comrades had been stripped of their wings and cast from Heaven due to their lust for human women.

Perseus landed gracefully and folded his wings, which were eager for rest, behind his back. He braced himself to receive another message and be sent back to Archangel Gabriel and even the thought of another lap around Heaven, which was pretty huge, mind you, made him groan. He looked at the scroll in his hand, which was tied with a red ribbon. Curiosity and temptation urged him to read the message written on the parchment, but Perseus swatted the thoughts away. It was forbidden for messenger angels to read the messages that they were delivering, especially those from Archangels. Doing so would eventually result in falling from Heaven, which sounded pretty painful.

But Perseus had to admit that he did want to ask, but he abstained from it; it would be the ultimate form of rudeness. He knew that they were most likely discussing the disappearance of Nicolas, for Archangel Azrael had requested help that his angel be found. Most would think that there were too many angels for the Archangels to know every single one, but their memories were infinite. They knew every single angel that lived in Heaven, and cared for them all equally. Archangel Azrael had clearly been in distress, for Archangel Michael had bitten his lip when he had read it. It was unlike Archangel Azrael, the lead death angel, to become panicked, but he was caring for all of his workers and when one went missing he threw a fit.

But seriously, what if the whole conversation was just like:

_Sup' Gabe, how's it going? -M_

_Nothing much bruh. –G_

_Will u help me look 4 this Nicolas guy? –M_

_Sure. #heismissing #JUSTDOINGMANLYANGELTHINGS -G_

_Lol. Azrael will kick yo ass if he hears dat. –M_

_#dealwithit –G_

_Search party tomorrow. Will u show? –M_

_Probs. –G_

_Gonna b dangerous. –M_

_#YOLO –G_

_What is it with u and mortal #'s? And it's YOLF: You only live forever. –M_

_Whatevs. Dunno why I'm using them. Just sounds cool. –G_

_Can U tell r bros Raphael, Uriel, Raguel, Remiel and Saraqael? They need 2 know about dis. –M_

_Bruh. I ain't getting my ass of dis couch. Do it urself or make ur messenger angel do it. –G_

_Lol im head Archangel and I command you to tell the homies. And dude ur like the head messenger angel I hav no idea y we're making my messenger angel do dis. –M_

_-_- STFU -G_

_:D Lol. C you 8:00 –M_

_K (P.S Ur messenger angel is gonna b pissed when he finds out dis is why we r sending him back & forth) -G_

IF _he finds out. Haha. KK bye. -M_

The thought of that made Perseus' blood boil. He refused to adopt human culture of any sort, as did most angels. The Archangels were the only ones to seem to slightly embrace mortal customs. As the huge golden doors that towered overhead opened, Perseus couldn't help but feel nervous around Archangel Michael; his power was only dwarfed by that of God Himself and the angel's knowledge was nearly infinite. When you work for a guy who can banish you to the depths of Hell with a snap of his fingers, you have the right to get a little antsy around them.

The doors closed behind the messenger angel as he began to walk down the long carpet woven out of gold threads. Marble columns supported an arched ceiling and the stained glass windows that depicted each of the Sacred Mysteries gave it a church-like feel. Two fountains on either side of the room depicted stone angels holding jugs, and Holy Water poured forth out of the jugs. Incense was burning somewhere and Perseus could hear the faint sound of a choir.

But angels weren't just apart of Christianity, though. Stars of David hung on the columns and there was a Torah outspread neatly on a marble altar at the end of the golden rug. Behind that was a throne made of solid gold and on top of it was Archangel Michael. On normal days he would be lounging on it, tranquil and relaxed, but today he was poised at the edge of the seat has he waited anxiously for his messenger angel to return. When he saw Perseus his eyes lit up and he raced over, urgency woven through every fiber of his movement.

The messenger angel knelt and presented the Archangel Michael with the scroll from Archangel Gabriel. He thanked him and opened the scroll, reading it over carefully but quickly. Perseus couldn't help but marvel at the Archangels' beauty. Originally, Lucifer had been that most beautiful angel, but since he turned corrupted and fell from Heaven, Michael had taken his place. He was, in fact, gorgeous, even on angel standards.

His curly blonde hair fell to his shoulders and his looks were chiseled and beautiful. His eyes were the color of the sky and just as vibrant as they shimmered from the light that the stained glass windows cast on them. He was wearing silver armor and a red cape drifted around his wings, which were the biggest wings Perseus had ever seen to this day. They were as large as a bus was long, yet they still seemed proportional to Archangel Michael's body. They were so big that they slightly dragged behind him when he walked. Each feather was a pure white and shimmered gold in the sunlight, nearly dazzling Perseus.

His face, though, was grave as he read yet another one of Gabriel's reply letters. He looked up at Perseus and smiled. You could consider them friends, Archangel Michael and messenger angel Perseus, but it was more like a friendship between boss and employee. It was not as if they delighted in each other's company and talked in a way that friends would talk, but they didn't despise each other either.

"They found him." he said lowly and rolled the scroll back up. With a flick of his wrist it disappeared into golden sparks. Perseus couldn't suppress a sigh of relief. So Nicolas was okay and they were able to resume their companionship once more. Archangel Michael's face, on the other hand, was grave.

"What is it, sir? Is something wrong? Shall I fetch you some water of food?" Perseus asked, his voice fringed with worry. Archangels barely showed their emotions when it came to handling hard situations, but Perseus could clearly see the worry lines etched into Archangel Michael's face, which was very uncharacteristic.

"No, Perseus, but thank you. They did find the death angel Nicholas…" Archangel Michael's voice trailed off and he took a deep breath. What was so bad that even an Archangel would hesitate to break the news? Perseus' heart rate sped up a little. He knew that this would not be good news. "…but they found him curled in an alley with both his wings missing."

Perseus gasped, "What would commit such as heinous crime?" Archangel Michael shook his head sadly.

"We are currently trying to figure this out. Nicolas claims that all of the culprits wore intricate and expensive masks, which means that they may be related to the disappearances of many other angels. He said that they wanted his wings and therefore they are acquainted with the black market; he had been lured into a trap from a demon scale that he saw glittering on the ground while on patrol. It was his duty to inspect it, and he wound up caught in one of their traps. I'm afraid angels can no longer associate with him now, for he has fallen." Archangel Michael sighed.

"But sir, I thought fallen angels were only those who were banished to Hell for doing crimes." Perseus questioned, his voice shaking. Nicolas had been his closest companion and losing him was really taking a toll on the poor messenger angel.

"Yes, but there are also those called the 'artificially fallen.' They have accidentally lost their wings, either in an accident or, like in Nico's case, they were chopped off by someone or something other than an Archangel. Sadly, they are still considered fallen angels." Archangel explained in a melancholy tone. "It is forbidden by law that we can associate with them. I wish I could help you, Perseus, but that would mean going against the will of God. It is my duty to follow His wishes and orders, and I certainly do not want to end up like Lucifer had."

A tear trickled down Perseus' cheek and Archangel Michael's expression turned to one of pity. "Is there any lead on the wretched beings who did this?" the messenger angel managed to choke out.

"Archangel Gabriel has sent out some of his messengers and guard to try and acquire some information. So far, we are leaning towards demons. But some think that there may be mortals that know about our kind." the Archangel replied, his voice full of sympathy for his messenger.

"May I humbly ask to be a part of those search parties, my lord?" Perseus asked. "I would like to know who did this to my comrade." With a smile Archangel Michael nodded. His messenger deserved to know who had severed Nicholas' wings, and he certainly would be driven to find the culprits more than any other angel in the search party. "Thank you, sir." With another bow Percy spread his black wings and shot out of the Archangel's quarters like a bullet.


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N) Did you all have a happy Thanksgiving? Now we all have to prepare for Christmas or Hanukah or whatever you celebrate. It is officially 'that' time of the years! :D**

**Here is a Haiku to you from Apollo:**

**_Happy Thanksgiving_**

**_Hope you stuffed your freaking face_**

**_The turkeys are dead_**

**As you can see I'm not that good of a Haiku writer. ANYWAY, let's get on with the chapter. **

The wind buffeted Jason as he stood crouched on the top of the Golden Swords headquarters. His icy blue eyes scanned the buildings for any flicker of movement that may suggest an angel was nearby. He was trained to spot the shimmer of a halo or the glimpse of a feather from a long distance away, and it currently was not benefitting him right now. Luke had been right when he had said that most of his hunts would be solitary after the group hunt, and without Leo's traps Jason needed his sharp eyesight to find and hunt down any unlucky angels passing by.

Jason had once needed glasses, but Luke had made him drink a vial of red liquid and his vision had cleared and sharpened to the point that it was inhuman. His physical capabilities and mental strength heightened as well, much to Jason's surprise. Only later did Jason find out that it had been angel blood that Luke had given him. He had been disgusted, avoiding Luke, who had begged for forgiveness, if at all possible. Jason had to admit that he was still frustrated at the guy and would forever have a chip on his shoulder; the benefits of the heightened abilities was drowned out by the sinful taint that drinking the angel's blood had left on Jason.

He had nearly quit angel hunting, but then Thalia lost a bet on the winner of a street fight with a Candyman and they were plunged so far into debt that it would take at least five years' worth of angel wings to pay it off again. Jason had been furious with her for placing a bet that she knew she could possibly lose, but then Thalia had countered that if she had won she would have been able to pay off the rest of the debt and get us a huge mansion all at once, so it may have been worth the risk. She claimed that it was better to bet with the peril of losing than to take up Jason's unholy and satanic job of hunting angels.

She had hit a nerve and Jason had slept at the Golden Swords' headquarters for the past two years ever since. It had officially been four years since his first hunt and still Nicolas' wails of agony and expression of horror and pain haunted him in his nightmares, maybe as some sort of curse; a punishment for choosing the wrong path.

The cold air nipped at Jason's nose and cheeks, turning them a rosy red. His black clothes blended in with the inky black sky that carried the sharp metallic tang of an oncoming storm. Jason, however, was not daunted the slightest. He had an odd fondness for thunderstorms; he loved watching the rain pour down as lightning crackled and thunder rumbled. It cleared his head and made him calmer in a sense. As the dark clouds rolled in, the wind picked up more speed to the point that it was battering Jason's body as if he were a punching bag.

He smiled to himself, which made the scar on his lip that he had earned from the nails of an irate guardian angel quirk slightly. This was perfect weather for angel hunting; the clouds and potential rain provided shadows for hunters to slip in and out of and angels could not fly in the storm. The wind was too strong and the rain would make the feathers damp, resulting in a much labored flight.

Jason slipped back into the facility and out the only exit, which was also the only entrance; that one window that Luke had shouldered him into at gunpoint all those years ago. Since then Jason had matured and grown stronger. He was no longer that scrawny kid on the street; he was the big kid on the block, the boy everyone avoided except a select few in order to stay safe. His muscles had become thick and corded from hours upon hours of back-breaking training; from pumping iron, to treadmills, to hand-to-hand combat and fighting with weapons, Jason was prepared for anything that the angels threw at him.

He pulled on his gold eagle masquerade mask and slipped his hood over his head, which only further guaranteed his success when it came to disguising his identity. Even if the angel managed to wrestle the hood and mask off, the rain would make his hair a shade darker from dampness and distort his features as well. His plan was foolproof. As if on cue, lightning violently flashed overhead and rain began to pour down in sheets. The throaty bellow of thunder followed and the wind screamed across the city, demanding attention as it slammed on people's doors and attacked pedestrians who were running late.

Jason slipped out of the alley and made his way towards Seraphim Lane, where Leo had told him he'd set one of the traps. He kept his head down and shrouded his face and mask in shadow as to not attract attention. The street lights flickered once, twice, and went out. Apartment windows closed and locked and blinds were drawn. Lightning streaked across the sky like a bullet and cast dancing shadows across the city that disappeared soon after, like awaiting demons that were expecting their next meal.

It did not scare Jason, though his stomach twisted as it always did when he hunted angels. Even when contained, angels fought as if their immortality depended on it when their wings were at stake. He'd seen his comrades injured more than once for not taking enough caution around restrained angels. It was like going on a roller coaster; no matter how many times you went on, you still got the fluttering feeling in your stomach as you waited for the car to take off.

He picked his way towards the street, checking his surroundings warily. Every crack of thunder made him jump and even the skittering of a rat or mouse made his hairs stand on end. His footsteps on the street would've been as loud as if he was stomping if the night had been still, but Jason had to admit that he was thankful for the horrible weather, for now he didn't have to be so careful about walking lightly.

Lightning split the sky once more, illuminating a dented and rather mangled sign that read Seraphim Lane. Jason slunk around the corner, his movements catlike. He did not hear any sound of struggle, but them again he couldn't hear much of anything over the howling of the wind and the beating of the rain that poured down. He was aware of everything around him; the perilous shaking of the electrical wire above, the harsh clang as trashcans overturned and the occasional honk of a car horn in the distance. Other than that, he was alone, or so he thought. Leo had said that he'd placed the trap in the third alley to the right, and Jason quietly tiptoed across the street.

He froze up when he swore he heard he beating of wings, but dismissed it as just the wind. He produced a long knife from his belt, which would be perfect for both defense and cutting off his victim's wings. With a deep breath in vain attempt to calm his racing heart, he whirled around the corner, his knife at the ready. He peered into the dark alley, the blackness swimming and shifting in front of him like a dark wave. He looked at the ground and saw the shimmer of a demon scale.

So the trap had not been sprung, much to Jason's disappointment. He knew that it would be dangerous to step any further than he was, for fear of triggering a trap set for an immortal angel and not a human boy; things such as an iron net would not even hurt an angel the slightest, only restrain it, whereas the metal net would crush any mere mortal; that was unfortunate enough to spring the trap, and it had happened in the past.

"Stop right there!" there was a shout and the feeling of a sword jabbing into his shoulder blades nearly made Jason stagger. Instead, he whirled around at the person who was threatening him, his knife at the ready. He came face to face with the most beautiful angel he had ever seen. He had the looks of a god; tousled black hair that was plastered to his forehead and neck from the rain, brilliant sea-green eyes that glowed dimly in the darkness of the storm, and a chiseled chest that would make male models make a run for their money. He was wearing torn jeans and combat boots, but Jason knew that in Heaven the attire was much different.

The most noticeable thing, though, were the two wings that spread behind him. They were gigantic and powerful, which suggested that he was a messenger angel; they needed large wings to carry them around. They were even larger than the ones in the meeting room, each feather shaking like a leaf in the harsh wind. It may have been just the rain and the darkness, but Jason swore that they were the color of shadows in the night.

_"__In all my years of angel hunting I have never seen an angel with completely black wings." _ Luke had said.

_Oh, God. _Jason thought. _Jackpot. _The angel bared his teeth and leveled his sword at Jason's throat. _If he doesn't kill you first. _a voice in his head added.

"What do you want?" he asked smoothly despite the fact that inside he was terrified. Never before had he seen an angel this aggressive; the angels he had hunted alone had always been calm and friendly up to the point where he subdued them and hacked their wings off. This one seemed to purposely want to kill him. Then it struck Jason; did the angels find out about the Golden Swords? Were the Archangels sending their minions out to kill them?

"Take off your mask." the angel growled, the sword wavering due to his trembling hands. The fury and hatred in his voice was so severe that it nearly confirmed Jason's suspicions that the Golden Swords had been discovered.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that." Jason replied, pushing the tip of the sword away from his throat nonchalantly. His blue eyes flashed venomously and for a moment a look of worry and uncertainty passed across the angel's face, but it disappeared as fast as it had come.

"In all my life I have never seen a demon before." the angel remarked, mostly to himself. _So they haven't figured out about the Golden Swords. _Jason thought, relieved. _They think that it's just a gang of demons. I'd better play along. _The only problem was that Jason knew a lot about angels but very little about demons. He'd better keep it vague, cold, and icy; not giving too much away. Then when the angel east expected it, he'd pounce. The angel continued. "I'm guessing that's yours?" He gestured to the scale that was glittering with a dark light at the end of the alley.

"Most likely. I mean, I'm the only demon around, aren't I?" Jason retorted slyly, pumping as much potency into his words as possible. To simply ruffle the angel a little, he added, "I thought you were taught much better than to talk to creatures like me."

"You are unholy and powered on sin and the suffering of others, you beast. You're lucky that I'm not attacking right now." he warned.

"I prefer myself in one piece, thank you very much." Jason replied, packing as much sarcasm into his comment as humanly possible. The angel made a growling sound in his throat, his green eyes sparkling murderously.

"Are all of you this snarky?" he scoffed, but Jason knew well enough that it was a rhetorical question. "May I see your scale?" Jason needed to make a split decision. He could agree, which would be totally against demon nature and blow his cover, or he could refuse and possibly let his prey escape.

"I'd prefer you not." Jason replied icily, stepping in front of the angel, who was making a move towards the scale, and the trap. He turned, his green eyes blazing.

"Well why ever not?" he asked. Jason nearly hesitated. The angel would try to kill him over a stupid scale; why was he even doing this in the first place?

"I'd like to know your reason first, of course." Jason replied smoothly. He made sure to keep a 'but I'd rather you not take the scale' hinted in the undertone. The angel tried to get past once more, but Jason blocked him. Even though he knew he was making this harder for himself; that all the angel would have to do was pick up the scale and then the trap would be sprung, but he needed to stay in character.

As Luke had once said, the person you're lying to is more likely to buy your bluff if you believe the lie is true. _I am a demon from the fifth circle of hell. My name is…_ Jason struggled to come up with a name that sounded demon-ish besides Lucifer. _…Aeubor and I have killed many angels and stripped them of their wings. I am aware that the Archangels are suspicious of my activity and therefore I must keep everything vague. _Jason felt a little better after making up the story. He felt as if he had become Aeubor, this made-up demon.

"Listen, demon." the angel hissed like a snake. "For four years I have been searching for the one guilty of mercilessly and unfairly stripping my friend of his wings. I will stop at nothing to catch them and turn them in to the Archangels. They will be brought to justice." Jason nearly gulped; now that he was aware of the messenger angel's intentions, he wasn't so sure that acting like a demon was the right way to go. Nevertheless, he shrugged and stepped out of the way.

The angel approached the scale, his head on a swivel. He looked from Jason to the scale and back again, making sure that the "demon" didn't make any false moves. Jason felt the anticipation gnawing at his stomach as the angel approached the trap that would ultimately leave him wingless. He subtly reached for his gun so that he could shoot the angel if he decided to fly off. He was not leaving here without those gorgeous black wings; this angel would be the last angel he hunted, for those wings would fetch for a higher price than any of the other wings he had sold, thus getting him and Thalia out of debt and into the lap of luxury.

The angel approached the scale, looking it over carefully. _C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. Take the bait. _Jason thought desperately. Time seemed to drag out as the angel studied the scale on the ground and Jason noticed a little rock right by the angel's foot; the pressure activation would spring the trap if the angel just took on teeny step closer. That's when he stiffened and whirled around to Jason, raising his sword.

"Do you think you could really fool me that easily, young human?" the angel roared over the crash of thunder and bellowing of the wind. The rain seemed to pour down harder and Jason wondered whether his anger was affecting the storm or not. Was he really powerful enough to have the ability to do that? Even so, Jason was shocked; he had played right into the angel's hands. He knew he should've been suspicious and not taken up that whole act. Now the angel was on to him.

"You stripped Nicolas of his wings, fool! He was my blood brother, and for that you will pay dearly." before the angel could even finish Jason already had his gun out and had fired two shots that were drowned out by the raging tempest. One missed by an inch and sent the brick wall splintering, but the other buried itself into the angel's side. He screamed and stumbled as blood gushed from the wound. Jason faltered; that scream had sounded so human it wrenched his heart. _Just take his wings and you won't have to hear screams like that anymore. _Jason thought to himself. His moment of hesitation gave the angel just enough time to tackle him.

They rolled on the ground, yelling and raining punches on one another. The angel brought his fist down on his nose and a spike of unparalleled pain signaled that it was broken. He was covered in the angel's blood and the metallic tang was suffocating him, clearly bothering the angel as well, but they continued to fight. His hands were pinned to his sides, unable to reach any of his knives or swords, and his gun had slid out of reach.

The angel was on top of him, breathing hard. The gun wound was still bleeding heavily to the point where it would've killed him if he hadn't been immortal. "You're angel hunting ends here." he growled and snatched the gun off the floor, pressing the barrel against Jason's head. "Any last words before I pull the trigger and your tainted soul is dragged to the depths of Hell?"

"Yes." Jason spat. The angel tilted his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips.

"And what would that be?" he asked, clearly amused.

"Your wings will look great on my wall." Jason saw the look of horror and confusion on the angel's face as he raised his knife and stabbed him in the chest. The angel collapsed and Jason wriggled out from under him, grabbing his gun and training it on the fallen form of the angel. He prodded him with the gun, making sure that he was in that coma-like state that angels slipped into before they healed from very major wounds.

"Better get on with it before he gets up." Jason muttered to himself, the pity evident in his voice. He shoved his gun into his holster and took out his knife, studying it as the blade gleamed in the light of the lightning that flashed overhead. He began to saw through the angel's wings, despising the sound as he cut through the bone, flesh, and muscle connecting it to the angel's back. One black wing fell to the ground, leaving a bloodied stump behind that continued to bleed heavily. The next fell, too, and with that it was over. Jason gathered his prized and wrapped them in a blanket.

He turned to leave, but remorse made him took back. The angel was lying on his stomach, unmoving. Throw a shirt on him and he'd pass as human. His face was peaceful and calm in his forced sleep, not even a single twitch of an eyelid, and his head was pillowed on one of his arms. The pity and guilt clawed at Jason as he saw the angel bleeding from the wound in his side, the stumps that were once wings, and from the knife wound in his chest.

Jason thought of what he'd be like when he woke up to find his wings missing. It would be much more horrible than when Nico was conscious and his wings got chopped off. Knowing that you had been knocked out cold while someone sawed off what made you special would really make him suffer.

Without even thinking, Jason walked over and picked the angel up. He was so light that Jason nearly dropped him out of astonishment, but he manages to retain a grip on the angel's unconscious bleeding form. "Great; first angel hunting and now I'm taking angel hostages." Jason thought sourly. "I'm just going to nurse him back to health and then set him free, but not before I sell the wings. No talking to him. No nothing. Just business." he said to himself. With a sigh he began to carry the angel back to his house, where hopefully Thalia was asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N) Did you like the last chapter? Let's see what happens…*cue dramatic music* I know that there has been a lot of confusion, so I'm just going to put it out there: THIS STORY WILL NOT BE SLASH, JUST A BROMANCE.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, but I do own the plot!**

_Darkness. Fear. Pain. Perseus had never been in the forced coma, known as the Healing Slumber among angels, in order to heal from major wounds. In fact, the worst 'wounds' he'd ever suffered from was a broken arm when he was merely one hundred years old and was learning to fly (he crash-landed) and when he stubbed his pinky toe on the edge of the table. _

_But this was a whole new world of agony that was much worse than a broken arm or a stubbed toe. It burned him like liquid fire that seared his flesh and bone. The knife cut through his skin like butter and he had to relive it over and over and over again as the wound sealed up. His back ached and burned, but Perseus had no idea why. Was this just a side-effect from the Healing Slumber? But something told him that it was much more and much worse than that. _

_He was running down a path in a pine forest that stretched on and on and on. The sky was the color of dark ink and without stars or a moon, like a black tarp was stretched over the Earth. He had no idea what he was running from, but he knew that it was bad. Blue eyes glared at him through the trees, merciless and cold to the core. They burned holes into him like fire…hellfire, dark fire that scorched and devoured his soul._

_Eagles made of gold screeched and dove at him, their claws outstretched. He couldn't fly and he didn't have his sword, so he vainly tried to swat away the golden talons that clawed at his skin. The eagles continued to attack him, regrouping and gaining ranks until they were swarming him. Their screeching sounded like human screams and their eyes burned a deep red. One of the eagles broke from the rest and launched into the sky. It opened its beak and spoke:_

_ "__Your wings will look good on my wall." it screeched coldly and dove down for the finishing blow, its claws outstretched._

Perseus woke up screaming. He collapsed back onto the pillows and mattress and curled up, burying his face into the comfort and warmth. It was just a dream, just a horrible, horrible dream. That's when he noticed the raw pain in his back that spiked and burned whenever he moved. He opened his eyes and turned to check on his wings, making sure that they weren't damaged or ruffled. He screamed like he never had before. His wings were gone, nothing but bloodied stumps. So it hadn't been a dream. He wailed as tears streamed down his face and curled up on the bed that he had just realized was not _his _bed.

"My wings!" he screamed as his body was racked with violent sobs. His beautiful, reliant, powerful black wings had been chopped off. He was a fallen angel, now. He couldn't deliver messages to Michael. He couldn't launch himself into the sky with the wind in his hair and on his face. Most of all, he couldn't go home. Heaven was no longer open to him now. "WHY?" he sobbed. "WHY ME?" He buried his face into his hands and cried until his tear sacs threatened to burst.

He had lost so much in so little time. He looked up to see a gleaming metal bracelet around his right wrist. He turned to see a thick chain connected to that, which was connected to the bed. Now he was a prisoner. Yet another realization sent his sanity spiraling out of control as he tried to handle all of the horrible events that were crashing down upon him like gunfire. That's when he heard the squeal of rusted hinges and the clatter of a cage door closing.

He looked up to see a boy about eighteen or nineteen, holding a tray of supplies in his hands. From what Perseus could see, there was a bowl of water, some cloth, rolls of bandages and gauze, and painkillers. His hair was disheveled and there were deep, defined shadows under his eyes. But that wasn't the thing that set him off; it was those icy blue eyes that he had seen in his nightmare, the eyes that he had seen through the eagle masquerade mask staring mercilessly into his soul. This was the person that had done this to him. This was the human that had turned him into this.

Perseus looked at him with broken sea-green eyes as he set the tray on a table next to him and pulled a stool from the corner of the small room that was his cell. The fallen angel despised this human for cutting of his wings, but he could do nothing in this weakened state.

"Looks like you're all healed up." the human remarked and reached over. Perseus let out a hiss and bared his teeth, recoiling from the mortal's outstretched hands. The human seemed to grow impatient but let his hands fall to his sides, respecting Perseus' wish not to be touched. "Don't be so difficult. I need to check your bandages. Lie down." he ordered. Perseus just looked at him, noticing with satisfaction the bandage over the bridge if his nose, symbolizing that it had been broken, most likely by him. He refused to be ordered around by a human, especially the one that got him into this mess in the first place.

The mortal, seeming fed up, grabbed the chain that connected him to the side of the bed and yanked it down, pinning the angel's right arm to the mattress. The force used caused his frail frame to collapse down beside it. Perseus gave up, going limp the human reached over pulled the covers down, exposing his bare chest that was covered in soggy red bandages. A tear slipped down his cheek as he stared off to nowhere, his eyes like broken glass.

The human's hands were quick and swift as they removed the old bandages and replaced them with new ones, even though the wound was nothing but a nasty scar now. "Ow! You're hurting me." Perseus whimpered and struggled feebly as the mortal touched the tender skin around the knife scar gently, seeing if it needed any further treatment. The boy quickly drew away and began working on the bandages around his abdomen, where he had shot him. That was nothing but a scar, too, thanks to the help of the Healing Slumber.

"Easy, easy." he soothed as Perseus began to cry out. With tenderness that Perseus did not expect when it came to this particular human, he eased the angel onto his back, revealing the ugly stumps where his wings used to be. Skin and flesh had grown over them and a few bloody black feathers clung to the marred area, but other than that they looked like the stumps that would be left behind if a chicken's head was cut off. It was utterly mortifying and horrible. "This is going to hurt." the mortal warned and took a cloth from the tray, wetting it in the bowl of water.

Perseus screamed as he pressed the cloth down on one of the stumps. He arched his back and lashed out at the mortal, who staggered back as the angel's hand connected with his cheek, feeling satisfied as he heard the resounding slap of flesh on flesh. Perseus snarled at him, his green eyes flashing murderously. He hated this human with all of his being; he had become a victim of the human that he had been seeking for four years. The human set his jaw.

"If you'd been better-behaved I would have fetched some food for you." he snorted and Perseus' stomach chose that time to rumble loudly. Hunger ate away at his insides and he wanted to ask the human how long he had been in the Healing Slumber, but he was already gone, slamming the metal door closed behind him. Perseus groaned and collapsed back onto the pillows, tears threatening to spill over as his body ached for the weight of his wings on his back. Exhausted, he slipped into a thankfully dreamless slumber.

-Ω-

"I think we should toss him out to the streets. We never gave this sort of extensive care to an angel before. Besides, the beast attacked you when you were clearly trying to help him." a gruff voice scoffed. Perseus nearly stirred, but he knew that he may gather more information if he pretended that he was still asleep.

"He was panicked and scared, I don't blame him." replied a familiar voice that Perseus recognized as the voice of the mortal who had changed his bandages. "It's just that when I cut his wings…I felt so bad. I couldn't leave him in an alley like that. He's such a free spirit, so arrogant and cocky you can't help but feel compassion towards him. I wonder what his name is."

"Yeah well the stupid creature probably-wait his eye moved!" the gruffer voice exclaimed and Perseus cursed himself. But reluctantly he let his eyes flutter open. He was in a much different room than the first. The walls were flat concrete devoid of all decoration, unlike the stone bricks of the last room. Electric lights hung overhead, casting a dim glow around the room. Two mortals were standing next to him, one being the human from the old cell and the other being a big buff guy with a huge scar down his face.

He tried to sit up on the cold surface, but found both of his hands chained to the flat metal table. The chains were taught even if his hands were at his sides. He craned his neck to the side to look at his captors, squinting as the light hurt his eyes. "Welcome to your new cell, troublemaker. If you had behaved maybe you could have stayed in the other one." the buff guy growled coldly.

"Luke, please." the other mortal soothed, putting a hand on his partner, Luke's shoulder. "At least feign kindness."

"Are you kidding, Jason? What is it about this angel that makes you so soft? You've been working day in day out to make sure this creature is healthy without worrying about your own health. You should've left him on the streets." Luke snarled.

"And leave him exposed and helpless at the hands of other angel hunters who would rather have an arm, an eye, or a leg rather than his wings? You said that making them suffer is one of the lowest of crimes, and I did ruffle him up pretty badly; a bullet wound and a knife wound, with the severed wings on top of that. It took him three days to completely heal, Luke. _Three days._" Jason retorted. Luke made a growling sound in his throat and left, slamming the iron door behind him.

Before Perseus could even stop the words from coming out of his mouth, he said, "Thanks. You know, for defending me." Jason seemed surprised and aghast at that comment, so he quickly added, "But I'm still greatly irritated that you seem to think you have the authority to cut off my wings. Those were a part of my body, you know."

"I know." Jason hissed through his teeth and looked down at the floor, seeming guilty. "But you see…" he trailed off, contemplating whether it was a smart idea to tell the angel his reasons for chopping of his wings. Perseus didn't pressure him, because even if the lousy mortal had reduced him to a fallen angel he still deserved to be shown manners. Jason knelt beside the metal table so that his eyes were level with the messenger angel's. "First and foremost, I am not the richest of guys, okay?"

Perseus nodded, trying to keep his expression stern, but he couldn't help but soften up as the human spoke with such disgust that was directed towards himself; at lest he still had some remorse to offer.

"My sister, Thalia, and I, well we were in a load of debt. And I'm talking in the millions, you hear? We were kicked from our perfect suburban house and forced to move to a run-down shed in this God awful community, all because our father left and our mother was an alcoholic. We don't get bills because we have no electricity. No running water. The house itself was only around three thousand dollars or so, but it only added on to what we owed. I worked two day jobs six days a week, as did my sister. We weren't getting anywhere; our money solely for paying of the debt and not for anything else. We used to scrounge for food like disgusting rats, but then Luke found me and took me in, along with a few other people.

"He said that I could make a living off hunting down angels and cutting off their wings," At this Percy made a disgusted sound, but Jason persisted, "I know, I know. Don't rub it in. He told me that I had potential, that by selling those wings I could pay off the debt and move back to the house. It was only supposed to last about three years, but then Thalia lost this bet on a street fight, plunging us so deep that I'd have to hunt angels for at least another five years. Then…then I saw your wings. I was going to let you go, but those wings of yours…well they got us out of debt."

Perseus made a strangled sound. "Hold on, so you're implying that you sold my wings? You don't have them?" Jason wrung his hands in his lap but nodded guiltily. Perseus nearly screamed; he wanted to beat the stupid human to death, he wanted to strangle him. No matter what his sob story was behind his wicked deeds, it was still the most sinful job any individual could take up in order to pay off debt. "So you can't give them back to me."

"No. Someone else has them. Their name is classified." Jason replied flatly, rising to his feet. Perseus felt a tear streak down his face and forced the rest of them to stay put until Jason left. Instead, the human sat down on the edge of the table and took Perseus' hand. The angel spat at him, but he didn't seem to mind as he wiped saliva off his shirt. Jason leaned in so that his breath was hot on Perseus' face. "Listen," he whispered softly, "I don't expect, or deserve for that matter, forgiveness, but I am telling you right now that I regret every single waking moment of being an angel hunter. I had to do it for my family, or at least what family I have left." With that he departed, his head down and his shoulders hunched, closing the door behind him. The angel stared after him for a few moments, angry that a part of him wanted the human to come back.


	7. Chapter 7

**(A/N) I'm glad I could entertain you thus far. It makes me feel all warm inside that so many of you are willing to read my fanfiction! :D **

**DON'T FORGET TO SLAP THAT FOLLOW/FAVORITE BUTTON WITH YOUR FREAKIN' FACE AND POST AN AWEOSME REVIEW PLEASE! I NEED TO KNOW YOUR OPINION, AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS WELCOME, THOUGH TRY TO KEEP THE HATE AND FLAMES TO A MINIMAL. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, but I do, however, own the plot. **

Jason chewed on his lip as he sat by his captive, unwilling to rouse him. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping; there was no panic, anger, pain, or hatred in his expression, just simple bliss. "He's so beautiful." he murmured to himself and brushed a loose strand of raven black hair out of the angel's face, knowing that with his chained hands he would be unable to do so. As he did this, the angel's eyes snapped open, the green intensity of his gaze blazing to life as he jerked violently out of his sleep, almost as if he were forcing himself to do so.

Jason quickly drew away and the angel looked at him, his expression rather bemused. "Are you checking me out, human?" he taunted and purposely flexed is chiseled and defined muscles. His bare chest showed off his six-pack and pectorals, making Jason rather jealous, but then again the angel was perfect because, well, he was an angel and Jason was just a mortal. Jason looked away, blushing furiously.

"No, no, no, no. I'm not…like that. I'm not…uh…err…" he carefully tried to phrase in the most politically correct and vague, hinting way.

"To paraphrase it, you're not homosexual." the angel said flatly.

"Uh…you mean-?" Jason had to admit that he was tongue-tied; he never knew that an angel would say the word 'homosexual.' You had to admit, it wasn't something that came to mind on a normal occasion.

"Homosexual; gay, opposite of heterosexual, describing an individual who is attracted to the same sex, from Ancient Greek ὁμός, meaning "same", and Latin sexus, meaning "sex", an enduring pattern of emotional, romantic, and/or sexual attractions primarily or exclusively to people of the same sex. Yes, that." the angel snorted in reply.

"What, did you memorize the dictionary or something?" Jason scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He was surprised at the answer.

"Why, yes, yes I have." the angel said, his voice dead serious. Jason nearly burst out laughing, but managed to hold his tongue. He didn't want to offend the angel in any way, shape, or form; he was already on his bad side and didn't want to stress that even further. He couldn't hide his amused smile, though.

"Who has time for that?" he chuckled and the angel smiled at him. Was there even the slightest chance that they would be able to tolerate each other?

"People who are immortal." he replied simply and they both couldn't help but laugh at that. The angel's laugh was rich and very, very contagious. Jason swore that he heard Leo chuckling from the forge that was next door, but singled it out as just a trick of the mind. Just as soon as it had begun, the bout of laughter ended.

"All right, I guess you earned it." Jason chuckled and the angel raised an eyebrow at this, the question clear: _"Earned what?" _To answer him, he picked up the food tray off the floor and set it in his lap. It was piled high with fruit, vegetables, bacon, and pancakes with a butt load of syrup. The angel's eyes widened and he stared at the food hungrily, his mouth visibly watering.

Jason quickly cut up the pancakes into pieces that the angel could swallow. Carefully, he skewered one of them onto the fork and slipped it into his "captive's" eagerly awaiting mouth. The angel's eyes clearly stated that it was delicious and he wanted more, with Jason graciously giving it to him. He surprised at how powerful the celestial being's emotions were. Sure, he believed that angels did have the ability to feel emotion, but that it was only to a minimal; that it was more muted than a human's. Clearly Jason was wrong.

"So, what's your name?" Jason asked the angel, who hesitated for a moment in mid-chew, as if wondering whether it was a good idea to tell his captor his name.

"Perseus." he replied finally. "My name is Perseus." Jason smiled and spooned a bit of fruit into the angel's mouth.

"Hello, Perseus. I'm Jason, if you haven't figured that out already." They both chuckled and Perseus nearly choked on the food that he had in his mouth. "Can I call you Percy?" At that, the angel stiffened.

"No, please don't." he said quickly. "Only my close friend called me that, and he's…gone, I guess." Jason seemed to get the hint and nodded with understanding. He gave Percy the final scoop of fruit and set the tray down on the ground once more. The angel sighed, satisfied with his full stomach. "Can I get out now?"

"No." Jason replied simply. "You're not well enough." At this Perseus scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"You just don't want me to kill all of you with my mystical angelic power." he corrected.

"Yeah, something like that." Jason replied and grinned.

"I still hate you though." the angel's voice was gruff and his tone wavered. His eyes began to water and he turned away, tears silently streaking down his face. Jason got the hint that his presence was no longer wanted and slowly stood. Perseus didn't even look up at him, his beautiful green eyes dull as a dying star and his gaze distant. Jason gave him a sympathetic look that he didn't seem to notice and walked out, careful to lock the door behind him.

Perseus was miserable here; angels, even when fallen, were free creatures. It was like keeping a horse cooped up in your living room. Jason had begged Luke to unchain the poor messenger angel, but his pleas reached dead ears. Luke insisted that Perseus was docile and harmless only when restrained, and it didn't seem like he would be coming off that metal table in a long time. Jason wondered if Luke planned to experiment on him, as if Perseus were some sort of guinea pig. The Golden Swords certainly had no intention to release the angel, but what exactly were they going to do with him? _You said that you wouldn't associate with him, that you would let him go as soon as he's healed. Well, he's healed and he's certainly not going to be free any time soon. _Jason thought bitterly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

He walked through the meeting room, eyeing the white angel wings that were no longer the biggest wings he had ever seen. In fact, they had been dwarfed by Perseus' wings. The memory of selling them resurfaced and Jason desperately tried to shove it down, unwilling to face the guilt and remorse. But it kept coming back, nagging at the back of his mind like a persistent fly that just wouldn't give up. As Jason walked through the dim hallways towards his living quarters, he finally allowed the recollection to replay itself.

_The night was cold and crisp and the full moon cast a hazy white-blue glow on the city. Shadowy silhouettes of people slipped in and out of the darkness, their footsteps but tiny disturbances in the night. Jason looked around warily, his face shadowed by the hood of his leather jacket. He had shed his golden masquerade mask and it was now safely tucked in one of the drawers in his dresser, since he had been able to drop it off after carefully carrying Perseus back to the facility. _

_His blue eyes reflected the dim light of the street lamps, sparkling like sunlight on water. He carried a grey blanket in his hands, clutching it close to his chest as if his life depended on it. The gleam of knives could be seen under his jacket and a holster was also visible, therefore nobody, not even inner city mobsters, dared to confront him or attempt to steal the load in his arms. If you haven't figured it out, the blanket held the biggest wings that the Golden Swords had ever seen. It looked as if he was carrying two very long surfboards in a huge tarp. A few black feathers poked out from under the grey fabric and Jason quickly hid them from any prying or curious eyes. _

_A black cat scampered across the street and Jason bit his lip, he knew that bad omens were extra horrible on a day like this. He knew he shouldn't be venturing down this road. He knew he shouldn't even be going _near _the Whisper in general. No one decent ever went there, but then again he hunted angels for a living; he wasn't necessarily decent on any standards. _

_The streets became deserted, not that they weren't deserted before, but the gangsters and Candymen preferred to lurk around the inhabited areas of the city, which is closer to the center. As the streets branched off of it, the buildings became more and more ravaged, straight out of those movies about the apocalypse. Cracks like jagged forks of lightning riddled the sidewalks and street, making the road bumpy and uneven. All of the lamps were broken now and Jason was only able to see due to the fact that he had consumed angel blood. _

_He suppressed a shiver. He had never been to the Whisper with his comrades and he always had to brave it alone, but no matter how many times he went there to sell wings it always sent shivers racing up and down his spine. He always felt as if a pair of eyes was watching him from the darkness, sending the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Jason's strides became longer as he wished to get out of the night where he was exposed, even if it meant taking refuge in the Whisper. _

_He turned onto Hallow Song Avenue and scanned each of the crumbling buildings in search or the Whisper. All the paint was chipped and peeling off of these buildings, which were once apartments. Their windows were cracked, splintered, or missing. Graffiti tattooed their sides with fading colors and the fire escapes were twisted and malformed, as if they had been liquefied by flamethrowers. When it came to this neighborhood, Jason wouldn't be surprised if some thugs had actually used flamethrowers to melt them down._

_That's when he saw it. This structure was much larger than the others, more warehouse-like than apartment building-like. All of the windows were covered by black tarps and the faded bricks were beginning to crack and crumble. There used to be a sign over the doorway, but the letters had long since faded and peeled off. Faint music could be heard reverberating through the warehouse, the beat pulsing like a heartbeat that pounded and throbbed in Jason's ears._

_He hugged his package closer to his chest and climbed up the three small stairs. There was no jumper or security guard to inspect him and grant him entry, for in the Whisper there were no rules, or laws for that matter. Last time Jason had been there he had heard that a man had been stabbed at the bar for having too much to drink, even though in the Whisper it was explicitly legal to be intoxicated. With a deep breath his hand hovered over the doorknob, wondering if he should just give up on the whole thing and go back to the facility, maybe even sew Perseus' wings back onto his back. But he knew that he couldn't do that. If the debt was to be repaid, he'd need to sell them, here and now. _

_Shakily, he turned the doorknob and slipped inside. The music crashed down upon him like a tsunami, roaring in his eardrums like an angry animal and shrieking through the large amps that were vibrating with the intensity. Throngs of people thrashed and swayed among a huge dance floor, their bodies mashing together like the waves of a violent sea. Lights flashed and pulsed with the rhythm of the music, illuminating the crowd in an array of rainbow colors. _

_A huge bar stood off to the side, stacked with drinks and bottles of all shapes and sizes that reflected the multicolored lightning. Many people sat perched on stools, laughing and calling for more drinks. Others milled about the crowd on the dance floor, coaxing people to the edge of the crowd for a silent exchange of drugs and money. Jason shivered and felt his heart roaring in his chest to the point where he thought it would grow legs and run away._

_He slipped through the crowd silently, hoping not to be seen, but sadly that was not the case. He was just about to sneak through a door when a young woman cornered him. She was wearing very tight blue booty shorts and a loose T-shirt with a neckline that would make Miley Cyrus seem tame. She batted her eyelashes and puckered her lips, which were coated with a glossy red lipstick. _

_"__Hey, pretty boy." she said in a smooth, seductive voice. "What brings you here?" Jason grit his teeth and tried to push past her, but she blocked his path, demanding attention. "You don't talk much, do you? I'll tell you a secret," she leaned in so that her lips was a fraction of a centimeter away from his ear, "I like boys like that. Wanna take this to the bathroom and we can…talk a little more in private?" She basically draped herself over him and he made a sound of disgust, pushing her away. _

_"__Not now." he hissed and she huffed and stalked off into the crowd for anyone interested. Jason shivered and clutched the wings even closer to his chest, making sure they were still there. With a growl he slipped into the room, closing the door behind him and locking it. It was a small spare room, with a table off to one side and painted a bland green color. The hardwood floor creaked and groaned under Jason's weight as he shifted from one foot to another, putting his ear against the door to make sure that there was nobody listening on the other side to overhear the converstation._

_He turned to see another woman, this time even more beautiful. Her hair was a very dark chestnut, tumbling over one shoulder and her lips were coated in black lipstick. She was wearing a very form-fitting black dress that matched her pitiless black eyes that sparkled with intelligence. She didn't seem like a prostitute, though, and she didn't show the slightest interest in Jason, for she was his client. His contact, though he could never be sure; this could be an angel for all he knew, and she could kill him. But he didn't see any wings, and if she was disguising them she was doing it very well. _

_"__Let me see the wings. I hear they are larger than normal wings by tenfold." she said and joined him by. The table as he set the blanket down. With a flick of his wrist it unrolled, revealing the two sleek black wings. Some of the feathers were rumpled, but nothing that wasn't fixable. The woman sucked in a breath. "They're even more beautiful than I had imagined." She was right, the wings glittered in the dim lighting, each black feather gleaming like a dying star. They were huge and had to be tilted on an angle in order to stay on the table, and even then the ends were hanging off either side. Jason tried not to think of the deed that had to be done in order to acquire them, but it kept nagging at his mind like an insistent bug. _

_"__I'll give you four million for them." she said, her eyes still wide with awe. Jason caught a glimpse of her back, since the dress was backless, and nearly gasped when he saw two long scars on her shoulder blades. Wing scars. She was a fallen angel, and Jason didn't want to find out what she had done in order to have her wings torn out and cast out of Heaven._

_"__Six." Jason replied through grit teeth. It was always a hassle when it came to selling wings, but he needed at least six million to pay off his debt, and he wasn't; budging. The fallen angel whistled and pursed her lips. _

_"__Four and a half million." she offered, crossing her arms and staring at the beautiful wings. _

_"__No can do. These are the biggest wings that I have ever sold and they are the only black wings known to exist as far as I know. They're still six million." Jason told her and set his jaw stubbornly. _

_"__I can do five million." she suggested, chewing on her lip. He knew that she didn't want to lose these wings, and even if she had to reluctantly pay six million, she would get them no matter what. Jason saw it in the hungry gleam in her eyes, he just had to ease her into her decision. _

_"__Six million. Not a penny lower." he said firmly. "I could take them away and sell to someone else who is willing to pay my price…"_

_"__No!" she cried quickly and then composed herself. "Fine, six million." She fished out a checkbook and filled one out, handing it to me. Six million dollars. All on a single slip of paper. _

_"__It was a pleasure doing business with you." he said with a shake and left the wings on the table for the woman to collect. He tucked the check deep into his pocket and a smile tugged that the corner of his lips. At long last he was finally free, free of debt. Many more angels would still be able to fly unrestricted in the skies, and no others would ever have to be anchored to the ground because of Jason's deeds. _

_It was a pretty damn good day._


	8. Chapter 8

**(A/N) Sorry about the long time it took to update, guys, and I'm glad for all of your support. **

**_I'VE SAID THIS BEFORE AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN: THIS STORY WILL NOT BE SLASH, JUST A BROMANCE. _**

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot! Nothing else!**

Archangel Michael was panicking. A lot. He paced back and forth nervously and anxiously had he awaited the return of his messenger. He looked at the stained-glass windows and saw the light filtering through them dimming, signaling the impending sunset. Where was he? His breathing was hard and he clenched and unclenched his fists. Was this sort of some practical joke? Because it was not at all funny, just like how Perseus had once placed a whoopee-cushion on his throne.

"He's supposed to be here by now." the Archangel muttered to himself. What had happened to his messenger, who was also a close acquaintance? Had he gotten hurt? Did one of his flight feathers choose to molt at the last second, causing him to have to walk all the way back? Then again, Perseus had told him he'd be out looking for the one who chopped off Nicolas' wings. He'd been obsessing over that for the past four years. Had he finally found the culprit? But something told Michael that it wasn't a good thing that his messenger angel wasn't home before dark.

Archangel Michael was not one to spy, and he hated sending what were called Iris messages, for fear he'd show up in some intimate moment in someone else's life. But if Perseus was goofing off and not getting his sorry arse over here, Michael would have to reprimand him. His messenger angel did tend to get sidetracked, but he knew the rule to be back by dark and wouldn't dilly-dally if he was running late. He walked over to one of the fountains of Holy Water and set one of his fingers aflame. It didn't hurt, only tickled slightly as he pressed the fire into the fountain. "Show me Perseus the messenger angel." Michael ordered. When it came to angels, you didn't have to know the location of another angel to Iris message them, just their name and occupation.

Immediately a spray of water rocketed into the air and formed an image. At first the water droplets made it fuzzy, causing the Archangel's eyes to hurt, but eventually the picture focused and sharpened. He wished it hadn't, for the vision would forever haunt him in his nightmares for millennia to come. Perseus was laying on his stomach, hands chained to the uncomfortable-looking metal table he was laying on. Silent tears streaked down his face and his shoulders shook as he held in sobs, but that wasn't the thing that ripped Michael's heart in two; instead of his beautiful, glorious wings that he couldn't admit that he hadn't envied, there were two ugly stumps in their place.

The Archangel watched his messenger for a few moments and then slowly cut his hand through the Iris message, lowering his gaze to the ground. A single tear found its way down his cheek and dripped onto the floor. Immediately, a green chute sprung in the place it had landed, and a black rose bloomed. It was the exact color Perseus' wings had been. Now they were gone. He would've talked to him, reassured him that he was still watching over him even though he was fallen, but he was unable to do so since Perseus was now fallen.

He staggered a bit at the reality, his gaze distant. Perseus had been the best messenger angel in all of time. He was quick, agile, and fast on those black wings of his. He had been beyond loyal, honor bound beyond belief. He wouldn't have let Archangel Michael down for the world. He was always on time and worked himself hard in order to get the job done, unlike no other messenger angel that had ever existed. Now he was anchored to the ground, just like Nicholas, destined to walk on foot or drive in one of those wretched metal beasts that the mortals had created.

He found himself walking down the hallway towards Perseus' room. He let his feet carry him there, for they knew the way by heart. Meanwhile his mind wandered to all of the memories he and Perseus had shared, and yet another tear fell. Again, a black rose grew where it landed. He slipped into his messenger angel's room, and looked it over. It was painted blue, his favorite color, and all of his belongings lay dormant. His bed was unmade, which would've made anyone think that he was out on a stroll and not gone forever.

Michael looked around and the wanting, the longing for his messenger angel to bound inside with a scroll in hand, was overpowering. He wanted to see Perseus smile, just one last time. He wanted to see those beautiful green eyes shining with happiness and not dripping with tears of loss and self-hatred. Then he noticed a note on the dresser that was carefully folded and tied with a red ribbon. He knew he shouldn't read it, for it could've been a love letter written by him or a kind, gentle female seraph, which would be yet another angel that would miss him dearly. Even so, it may have a lead on where he went, and Michael took it gingerly in his hands, untying the ribbon and opening the note. It read:

_Archangel Michael,_

_If you're reading this you're probably worried sick and want my head on a platter for being tardy, but I have a good lead. I think I know who the person(s) is that's taking the angel's wings, and I may be gone for a few days. I am terribly sorry and guilty that I will be technically letting you down in order to go off on my own adventure that may even lead to a dead end, but I'm pretty sure that I've found the culprit. It's a good thing I found them before they wound me. I'll be back soon, I promise. _

_-Perseus_

Michael wiped furiously at his eyes and tucked the note into is armor. Perseus' promise would never be fulfilled, for he was never coming home. He would cherish the note forever, read it over and over until he'd memorized it, and then read it some more. He'd run his hand over Perseus' sloppy yet endearing handwriting more than once, for he couldn't admit that Percy hadn't left a huge hole in his heart. His messenger had been like a blood brother to him, even though he may not have returned the feelings. But he had stolen a huge chunk of his heart and it was now anchored to Earth along with him.

Michael laid down on Perseus' bed, breathing in the scent of the ocean that always lingered around him, and fell asleep.

-Ω-

"Alright, angel boy, you need some breakfast and some exercise." the mortal named Luke said gruffly. Perseus had to admit that he was excited to be able to walk around, for there was a crick in his neck that he just couldn't get rid of, and all of his muscles were tight from disuse. He allowed Luke to unchain him, but was disappointed when a set of handcuffs replaced them, with a blindfold on top of that. He felt the cold barrel of a gun between his shoulder blades and walked in the direction that the human escorted him.

Perseus was not at all fond of Luke, preferring Jason out of all of the people who lived in the facility. The powerful aroma of angel blood clung to him wherever he went, as if he drank it daily. The thought made him want to heave, though it wasn't surprising when it came to Luke. All he saw was white fabric and he stepped cautiously, as if there was a deep chasm in front of him that he was walking right into.

"Keep it moving." the human ordered and jabbed the gun even harder into his back.

"Well you're a charmer." Perseus scoffed sarcastically, though there was no reply from Luke. Since he couldn't see his face, the angel was unsure of whether he was cross, amused, or even both. Luke placed a large hand on Perseus' shoulder and steered him to the left. The angel had completely forgotten that he should've been mapping out how many paces he took before he was turned right or left. It was a lost cause now, since he had waited too long.

"Don't try anything or I sent a bullet through your head. How'd you like another coma?" the human snarled threateningly and Perseus stayed put as he heard the sound of a door opening. "Inside. Now." The cold air slammed into the angel like a wave, and he shivered; after all, he was only wearing jeans. He didn't have socks or a shirt, and the frigid air nipped at his bare skin and caused his hairs to stand on end. The blindfold was removed rather roughly, as were his handcuffs. Perseus brushed himself off indignantly, as if he were trying to get rid of the human taint that had been left on his body when Luke had touched him.

"Sit." the mortal ordered and hustled him to a table in the corner of the room. There were other tables as well, but these were placed farther away from his table. Luke chained Perseus to the leg of the table and placed a plate full of food in front of him. With a furious glare behind him, he stormed over to the other tables. That's when the door opened again and more people filed in. Perseus recognized most of them, but there was one that he had never seen before. His mouth dropped open.

She was beautiful. Her honey blonde hair tumbled over one shoulder in a cascade of curls. Her sharp grey eyes scanned the room and Perseus got lost in how much depth and intelligence were within them. Her face was perfect, neither blemish nor freckle speckling her skin, and she had the perfect tan despite the cold weather. Perseus was surprised that she was an angel hunter and not an angel; he had only seen angels with such perfection before.

Her gaze locked with his and he felt his cheeks heat up. He quickly looked away and concentrated on his food. He was an angel. He could not fall in love with a mortal girl or risk toppling into Hell. _But you're not an angel. You're a fallen angel. You don't have to go by the rules anymore, _a voice in his head chided. He ignored it. He refused to become smitten for a rotten human girl, especially when she was an angel hunter. She was probably responsible for the disappearances of many of Perseus' friends. She had turned to a life of sin.

But he couldn't help but turn around to look at her as she sat at the tables, chatting with Luke and the others, which consisted of Dakota, Gwendolyn, Jason, and Leo, though their last names had been obscured from him. They were nice enough; the only one who seemed to have a chip on his shoulder was Luke. Then again, Perseus didn't know whether the girl hated him or not. She seemed like the girl in a mortal school who the crowd would part for as she barged passed. She didn't show fear, she was meant to be feared. She was also obviously the leader of the entire group of angel hunters. Her posture was erect and she had a sort of responsible and intelligent aura emitting from her. That was all the more of a reason to not fall in love with her.

Dakota hadn't been very decent, but then again he had been extraordinarily intoxicated when he had first entered Perseus' cell. His face had been flushed and his eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. He had waved a wine bottle at the angel and made a few very rude and childish gestures, then had left. At the time Perseus had been confused, but he eventually suspected that he was an alcoholic, and a dedicated one at that. Even now as he watched the angel hunter he saw his eyes were half-closed and he was grinning like a madman while joking with Gwendolyn.

Speaking of Gwendolyn, she had been a very nice girl. She wasn't that into angel hunting and preferred to stay at the facility to organize the others' trophies and check Leo's traps. They had talked for a brief moment, but Perseus could see her discomfort as she spoke, as if it was an offense to be speaking with an angel. He was able to figure out that she was strong and independent, but also mildly timid, at least around him.

Leo was a genius, and Perseus couldn't deny that. That braniac gleam in the boy's eyes was all he could focus on when he had come to give him lunch. There was also a hint of mischief in those brown eyes that drove Perseus mad; it was as if he was taunting him, his eyes clearly stating, "I know something you don't know." Leo had been friendly and happy to engage in conversation with the angel, talking about mechanics and other things. Perseus was not that into mechanics, but he was an angel; he was required to study up on every aspect of culture, academics, and professions, and knew a great deal when it came to tinkering with spare parts, something that Leo clearly did a lot of.

Reyna had been of few words. She didn't even speak to Perseus when she had fed him, lapsing them into a very uncomfortable silence. He didn't know much about her, only that she was the second in command. She looked like a leader, too; with her excellent poker face that he couldn't help but envy and her intelligent, sharp brown eyes. Her hair was always in a braid and her built was strong and muscular, even for an angel hunter. She must've worked extra hard to keep that physique.

Then there was Jason. He was the one who usually brought Perseus' meals and he made an effort to make sure he was comfortable, even sneaking a pillow into his cell. His was humble and had plenty of remorse, which the angel was proud of. He did anything and everything in order to repent, to make it up to Perseus, though the angel had no idea what was going to make up for the loss of his wings. Jason was a good boy, but his debt had led him astray. He was kind, loyal, and honest, not to mention optimistic. His presence always lifted Perseus' spirit for some reason, even though he should be loathing the stupid mortal.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the person that had pulled out a chair next to him and sat down. When he looked up, he saw the blonde girl. His heart skipped a beat and Perseus scolded himself for it, even though it wasn't technically against the rules for a fallen angel to love a mortal. If he let himself fall head-over-heels for him, it would be an all-time low. Any chance of earning his wings back and becoming a messenger angel again would be crushed and that's what he wanted most in the world; to be able to go home.

He gulped and looked down at his plate, pushing his food around with his fork. She said nothing, just watched him. Her grey eyes bore a hold into the side of his face and he couldn't help but shiver a little. Finally he said, "Greetings." There was a pause.

"Hello." she replied, her tone guarded. Perseus chewed on his lip and still didn't make eye contact with her, but he could still feel her chilly gaze scanning him as if he were an interesting specimen. "So you are adjusting?"

"Slowly, but yes." Perseus replied, and rather curtly at that. He hated talking about how he was basically a prisoner in the stupid facility. It pained him to think about life not long ago, where he could fly free and deliver messages for Archangel Michael without a care in the world.

"How was it like?" she asked suddenly, her voice sounding rather distant.

"To what?" the angel questioned and looked at her beautiful face for the first time. Her gaze was rather distracted, but she immediately shook her head and managed to focus.

"To fly." she replied. The other angel hunters had stalked over, whispering amongst themselves in hushed voices, trying to overhear the conversation. They knew it was rude, but Perseus could see the curiosity sparkling in their eyes. Even Luke seemed mildly interested.

"It was…good." the angel said slowly. The girl seemed to become annoyed. Her brows knit together and her mouth turned down at the corners. A part of Perseus didn't want to make the girl upset. He felt guilty that he had let her down.

"No, in more detail." she said, but it sounded more like an order rather than a request.

"It was amazing, okay? I was able to feel free. Soar above the clouds and feel the wind on my face and ruffling my hair. My wings…God, my wings could carry me anywhere. They were powerful and reliable and I could always trust them to take me where I wished. I would shoot through the sky and do loops and barrel rolls without a care in the world. My wings were everything, they were what made me happy and were a part of me," Perseus' voice cracked, "and now they're gone."

There was silence. Someone could hear a pin drop as the angel hunters stared at Perseus with awe and guilt written all over their faces. The blonde girl, Luke, and Reyna however looked indifferent, their faces like the masquerade masks they wore when they hunted angels. Perseus quickly returned his concentration back to his food, which lay uneaten. He didn't seem to have much of an appetite anymore now that he had confessed.

"I think it's time to go." Luke growled, and with that he blindfolded the angel, handcuffed him, and dragged him out of the dining hall.


	9. Chapter 9

I am so sorry, guys. This is probably the worst thing that has happened before; my computer FREAKING BROKE and now I can't update any of my stories. It has happened before where I accidentally dropped it like the stupid klutz I am and the battery came out. We put it back in and now it won't start. We checked everything, and the only hing that lights up is that connection thingy that glows green/blue when you have a connection and red when you don't; that just glows red and the screen goes black, unable to start. If anyone has any clue how to fix it without bringing it to the tech guys, then review please. I don't want to leave you guys hanging for too long. I am currently writing this from my iPad mini and I can't possible write an entire chapter like this. It may take a really long time to update, so this may be the last time I post something until i can get my computer fixed. I love you all! Peace and pizza!

-iwovepizza


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, I know that this didn't take long, but you can thank the tech guy at Best Buy. I took it in two days ago, and now it's as good as knew. The reason it was broken is that my type of computer, HP, does thing like that; many people have had their computer do that when the battery comes out, so I have to take extra precaution when carrying it. I am hoping that I can get a new one that isn't as fragile as this one, but it will have to do for now. All I have to do is actually write the next chapter to this story and we're all good. Expect updates today. Again, sorry for the inconvenience. **

**-Iwovepizza**


	11. Chapter 11

**(A/N) Did you miss me? Of course not it wasn't that long, but whatever. Here's your update, though it's a little late, I guess. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, but I do own the plot!**

Jason had finally convinced Luke to unchain Perseus, after two long and agonizing days of schmoozing and begging. The trainer had reluctantly asked for all the member of the Golden Swords' vote, and it was won four to three in favor of letting the angel roam around his quarters, rather than being chained to the metal table. Luke, Annabeth, and Gwen had opposed. Jason knew that Perseus had feelings for Annabeth, even if she wasn't aware that he was able to feel emotion at all. Whether those feelings were positive or negative was a mystery, but he had seen the way the angel had looked at her in the mess hall. Something was definitely going on in that immortal's mind, though that too remained obscure. Jason walked down the hallway whistling, carrying Perseus' breakfast in his hands. He passed the forge, the other members' quarters, and finally walking over to the metal door that cut Perseus' cell off from the rest of the facility.

The angel was waiting for him expectantly, still unaware that he had been given freedom. He was lying across the metal table, his hands chained as usual. He arched his back and stretched, causing his joints to pop. Jason couldn't help but admire Perseus' beauty, even though he had done that many times before. "Breakfast." he announced and the angel craned his neck to look at him. He grinned and Jason couldn't help but chuckle; the two had come to the point where they would consider each other friends, or at least acquaintances.

"I have something special for you today, but you have to promise to be on your best behavior." Jason told him. Perseus perked up, which he only did when he was interested, which was very rarely. The angel had the attention span of a Chameleon; it was so obvious that he wasn't paying attention to you that he might as well have eyes that moved in two separate directions.

"Is it _blue cookies?_" he asked excitedly, the tone of his voice becoming increasingly curious. Jason laughed heartily at the angel's enthusiasm. All it took was one cookie that had been dyed blue and Perseus had become obsessed with them, insisting that his food be blue when it was possible. Jason had been a little wierded-out by the messenger angel's sudden blue cookie fetish, but eventually he found out that it was uncommon to have any sort of colored food in Heaven. No wonder Perseus had been eager to get his hands on them.

"No, no. Something better." the human replied with a grin. His face became stony. "But you have to swear that you will act like, well, an angel. Best behavior. No ruses or violence or anything like that, you hear?" Perseus shoved his nose in the air and scoffed, as if he were offended that Jason was doubting his ability to be conducted. It was obviously a joke; Perseus knew and was proud of the fact that he was a rather…violent and intense individual, not to mention egotistical. But once a person got past that, it was very hard _not _to love the stupid angel.

"What could be better than blue cookies? But I promise I'll be good. I swear it on my wing…stumps." The two of them laughed at this, and Jason was glad that Perseus wasn't so wound up about the loss of his wings anymore. Maybe the two of them could get past that. That's when he realized that the fallen angel's expression was been pained, even as he laughed; the smile didn't reach his eyes, which were brimming with tears, and his laugh sounded hollow, as if someone had gutted at the humor out of him. They lapsed into a very awkward and uncomfortable silence for a few moments and Jason, wiling to break the tension, finally spoke up.

"All right, then." he said rather enthusiastically. With that, Jason produced the key from his pocket and unlocked the shackles on Perseus' wrists. He tossed the key and it went flying into the trashcan that lay in the corner of the room. Perseus gasped and shot upright, his face lighting up like a child's on Christmas. He rubbed his wrists, which had become red with irritation from the metal rubbing up against it.

"Did you…?" he said breathlessly, beaming. His eyes were just as vibrant and energetic as they'd been when Jason had first met him; ever since his wings had been chopped off they had been duller and lifeless. But instead of hostility and rage they shone and sparkled with joy and delight. He was downright ecstatic.

"It was hard, but I convinced them." Jason replied with a smile. He staggered as Perseus threw his arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He buried his face into Jason's neck and murmured thank-you a thousand times over, and the mortal was surprised that he would actually be humble enough to say so. Maybe his narcissistic personality was just a façade; a cover-up to hide the sensitive and vulnerable being underneath. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, the angel quickly composed himself and his cheeks flushed a dark shade of red.

"I'm grateful. I can't describe how indebted I am to you." he managed and wiped tears of happiness from his face. Jason had only just realized that he, too, had been crying. His cheeks were wet, but his grin shone like a blazing star.

"No, it was I who was paying off a debt." Jason told him and gave a pointed look at Perseus' wing stumps. The angel frowned for a moment, but it didn't seem to dampen his mood. He stretched in a million different ways and cracked his neck.

"Oh good Lord I've been on that table _forever._" he groaned. "And I'm immortal. I've got time, so if anything seems like it's dragging, you know I'm either bored as hell or very uncomfortable. In this case it's both." he added. Jason chuckled and they talked for a long while about things that they'd never even mentioned. Like how Reyna's cooking was or how the lights had the tendency to flicker every once in a while; they chatted as if they were old friends and not people who were supposed to be eternal enemies.

"Still, though; I'm not going to be the only one that comes in here." Jason leaned in, his breath hot on Perseus' face. "Show me. Show me I can trust you, because I'm not sure if this is an act or what, but all I know is that this can prove who you are. Please. Don't let me down. Promise." There was this pleading in his voice, a pleading that you would only find in people who were desperate. Perseus seemed taken aback, but he nodded vigorously.

"I…I promise." he replied. Jason finally let his shoulders relax; knowing that Perseus would try to not kill anyone while he was free was a huge burden off of his shoulders. As he walked out of Perseus' cell, smiling and waving goodbye, little did he know that that burden would come crashing back down on top of him, and that he would buckle and crack under its weight.

-Ω-

Perseus could not describe how overjoyed he was. As Jason left and locked the door, which he wasn't that bothered by, he leaped off of the metal table and ran in circles around the room, stretching his sore muscles and walking off the pins and needles that had developed in his feet. Without thinking he did a perfect backflip and landed on his feet, grinning from ear to ear. He saw the forgotten plate of food on the floor and his stomach roared loudly.

He stooped down and drained the cereal bowl within five minutes, gulping the remaining milk down and wiping off the acquired milk mustache. His body was humming with energy and his senses were on edge. Blood roared in his ears and his heart thumped steadily like the pounding of a drum. Adrenaline rushed through his body and made his skin tingle. For the first time since his wings were severed, he felt alive.

A few days came and went, boring the angel to death other than the blindfolded trips to the Mess Hall and visits to the lavatory to wash up and do his business. That's when he began to feel restless, like a horse that had been cooped up in their stall for too long. He paced back and forth across his cell, his agitation spiking. If he had still been chained to that metal table, he would've gone insane by now. Frustration pulsed off of him in waves and his jaw was clenched with anger. He wanted out of his cell. He wanted to feel the cool night air on his face and not have to breathe in the stale, recycled air from inside the facility. He wanted his sun to be from the real thing and not electrical lights. He wanted to run around out in the open and not be confined to a small room. Most of all, he wanted to fly again. He knew it wouldn't happen, but the aching coming from his wing stumps was so unbearable it drove him up a wall.

All at once the walls became closed in, stifling and restricting. The air became suffocating and he gasped in order to take enough in. His vision tilted and his head swam, thoughts blurring together into incomprehensible gibberish. He began to hyperventilate, his pupils but tiny dots within his iris. His lungs clawed for air but just couldn't seem to get enough, even though there was plenty to offer. He gripped his hair in his fists and screamed at the top of his lungs, watching as his vision blurred and his chest rising and falling at a horrifying pace.

That's when the door flew open and Luke barged inside, yelling something at him. He couldn't understand him; his words were utterly unintelligible. Perseus' vision was red. His mind told him that he disliked this human and he let out a sound like a snarl as he approached. He couldn't see anything; he could only process the image of a boy running towards him and looking angry as his vision skewed at a terrifying angle. There was a shout and the human ran closer. He was attacking! Perseus scrambled to defend himself as the buff human with the scar down his face reached out his hand towards him.

A part of the angel's head screamed: _He's trying to help! He's extending his hand to help you up! _But the other, more powerful side was chanting: _murder! Murder! Murder! _Perseus bellowed and lashed out at the human, overwhelmed by utter rage. He staggered back and the angel pounced slamming him to the ground. Perseus was aware of shouting, but it was of in the distance. The two struggled and rained punches on each other as they rolled on the floor, hissing, snarling, and spitting like street cats.

Luke nailed Perseus in the chest, knocking the breath out of him, and he retaliated as he drove the human into the wall, his strength driven by vengeance and hatred. _He was trying to attack me. He deserves to die. _The angel chanted over and over again in his head as he staggered to his feet, raising his right foot to deliver the blow that would knock the human unconscious or, hopefully, kill him. That's when a voice cut through the rage.

"PERSEUS!" it was a desperate cry, one full of pain and betrayal. The angel stood motionless as his foggy head cleared and his vision focused. He looked down at the beaten and bloody form of Luke Castellan at his feet and the blood, which wasn't his, that coated his knuckles. His left eye ached and began to swell shut, and a cut on his lip dripped blood down his chin. He didn't look nearly as bad as Luke did, though, and his wounds were already closing up.

That's when he saw him. Jason was standing a little farther down the hall, looking at him in horror. His mouth was moving, trying to form words, but his voice wouldn't work. A single tear slipped down his cheek. Perseus looked at himself and at Luke, who was breathing raggedly and bleeding out on the floor at his feet. He had done this. What had gotten into him? What was he thinking?

"Jason! I can explain…please-" Perseus took a few running steps towards him, but the human backed up, shaking his head.

"No. No. Stay away from me." Jason hissed, his voice cracking. More tears slipped down his cheeks and his blue eyes were dull with betrayal.

"Jason-"

"STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU MONSTER!" he screamed, balling his fists. "YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED ME!" He was hysterical now, his voice sounding broken and tears flowing down like waterfalls.

"Please, Jason!" Perseus wailed and crumbled to his knees, clasping his hands together in a begging gesture. "Please let me explain!" It was funny how people said that when they were caught doing something utterly horrible and merciless. Jason walked up to the angel, who was crying profusely now, his shoulders shaking as his body was racked with sobs. The human was poker-faced now, though his eyes and nose were still red and tear tracks strained his cheeks. "Please." the angel whispered. "Just show me a little mercy and I'll tell you everything."

"People like you don't deserve mercy." Jason's voice was hard and pitiless. He raised his gun and fired twice and Perseus' leg. He screamed and collapsed onto his side, the fresh tears not from the pain but from the fact that their friendship had deteriorated into nothing more than broken promises and bittersweet memories. Jason dragged Perseus, who had gone limp and was now crying silently, down a hallway that the angel had never seen before. He didn't care, though; all he could feel was the crushing guilt. That's when he heard the sound of a door opening and was tossed, rather roughly, into a room.

The floor was hard stone. And cold. Very cold. Perseus began shivering and the blood from the quickly-closing wounds in his leg began to trickle onto the floor. He looked up just in time to see Jason closing the cell door. It was one of those classic cell doors, made up of bars, and Perseus wished that it wasn't; he could see Jason's tear-stained face gazing at him sorrowfully through the cold iron. "I should've left you on the streets." he whispered mournfully, another tear falling. And then he was gone, and not just from bedside the cell door; just like that he had walked out of Perseus' life forever.

The angel curled up on the ground and wept.


	12. Chapter 12

**(A/N) Thanks for all of the support guys. Don't forget to review and slap that follow/favorite button! And leave a review, too. I really want to know how you guys feel about this story. Try to limit the hate and flames, though. Thank you, Guest, for giving me a little constructive criticism. I'll work on that :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, but I do own the plot.**

Perseus snarled like a savage wolf as Luke entered his cell, slamming the metal door behind him. Even as he bared his teeth and recoiled, tears dripped down his cheeks. His hostility raged out of control, consuming him. He hated the humans. He would kill every last one, dreaming of what he would do once he was able to wrap his hands around their necks. Why hadn't he finished the job with Luke when he had had the chance? He would murder the mortal named Jason slowly and painfully. How had Perseus ever let his guard down so easily? The angel had let the stupid thing get close to him and bury its way into his guiltily soft heart with tears and apologies and favors only to rip it out of his chest, taking it off with him to God-knows-where.

He trusted no one in this facility. He would get out even if it meant he would fight tooth and nail for it. But a part of him was still broken, the part that refused to be vengeful; the part that was craving for Jason, his only friend he had left. Then again, the mortal hated him to the core now. That left him alone; alone in this forsaken, hellish world to wither and waste away like a flower in the wintertime. Perseus' chains rattled as he trembled and his body was racked with sobs that he desperately tried to restrain, but he couldn't help but let one slip from his lips in a tortured whimper.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he asked mockingly. He rubbed Perseus under the chin and the angel snarled, snapping at his hand. The force of his teeth connecting was so powerful that the sound of them gnashing together rang through the cell. "Nearly took my fingers off there." Luke sneered. "Too bad you can't, you pitiful, worthless thing." He kicked Perseus as hard as he could and the angel cried out, collapsing onto his side. The bruise that began to form was hideous and a deep purple, almost black. Perseus moaned forlornly and another tear dripped down his face. "No Jason to save you, eh? He won't be there to protect you anymore. He's gone; he's not an angel hunter anymore, thanks to _your _wings. Therefore, he's doesn't live here any longer. He's off with his sister, living in a luxurious penthouse in a better neighborhood. The only reason he stayed was because he was taking care of you, and then you turn around and stab him in the back. "

Perseus' lower lip quivered, much to his own disgust. He didn't need the stupid human who severed his wings. He didn't need to be protected, and he certainly didn't care if he'd betrayed the irritating mortal. But he was trying to convince himself. He cowered into the floor and tried to make himself as small as possible, even if he knew that he looked as if he was submitting. He was cold and hungry. He wanted to go home more than anything. Home. Home. Home. He didn't have a home anymore. Heaven wasn't an option and neither was the facility where he was currently being held prisoner. He was homeless and alone, no one to help him or stand up for him.

Luke smiled coldly as he watched the angel tremble, his blue eyes sparkling with cold delight. "Leave me alone." Perseus whimpered, curling up. "Go away." At this, Luke laughed.

"That's not likely, _Perseus._" the human spat his name as if it were an insult. "I want you to know what it's like to feel helpless. I want you to know the meaning of suffering, for you clearly have only grazed the surface. I tend to rectify that now." And with that he produced a whip from his belt.

-Ω-

Annabeth was woken to the sound of screaming. Horrible, agonizing screaming. She shot out of bed and staggered to her dresser, fumbling for her knives in the darkness. Her head swam hazily from sleep and she knew that her hair must've been a big mess. What was it, three in the morning? She certainly wasn't in the condition to rescue one of her comrades; she doubted that she could defeat an angel or demon that had managed to worm its way into the facility in owl jammies. She found the hilt of her long sword and threw the door open, running down the hall as fast as her feet were allowing.

The screaming intensified, becoming harsher and harsher to the point where it was a ghastly screeching. It sounded so agonized, so tortured Annabeth wondered if it was even human. Her vision blurred and she became rather nauseous from getting up so quickly. Usually she would ease herself out of bed slowly, letting her body adjust to moving, but one of her partners was in danger, and she could waste no time trying to rescue them. She continued down the hall, watching as her comrades opened their doors and rubbed their eyes groggily, searching for the source of the scream with weary and tired, half-close eyes.

Leo yawned and stretched, eying her strangely as she jogged down the hallway, her bare feet slapping on the floor more loudly than she would have liked. The floor was cold, too, sending chills up and down her spine; she had just gone from her warm, cozy comforter and sheets to the chilly air outside the bed. Gwen seemed rather confused and worried, and armor was hanging crookedly from her skinny frame as she tried to adjust it with fumbling hands and unfocused eyes.

Reyna looked high on alert and seemed about to join Annabeth in her run towards the source of the screaming, but the leader of the Golden Swords motioned for her second-in-command to stay back, just in case it wasn't a real problem. It was most likely just Dakota waking up from one of his hangovers, for Annabeth didn't see him poking his head out of his room. Luke wasn't in sight either, but he was a pretty deep sleeper; no scream would wake him up. Then again, he could be the one making the screams. Annabeth's heart ached when she realized that Jason no longer took up residence in the Golden Swords' facility. That's when it stopped. The person whom the scream had belonged to bubbled into tears, their hoarse sobbing echoing down the halls.

Suddenly Luke rounded the corner, covered in blood. He didn't seem hurt, though, and he wasn't limping either, nor was he staggering. His eyes held a cold and menacing sort of chilly content, like a villain who smiled when an entire town was leveled. He didn't seem like the one who had screamed, but then again who could it have been; Dakota had just staggered out of his room drunkenly, muttering gibbering in slurred words. "What was that? Why are you covered in blood?" the leader of the Golden Swords asked sleepily, still rubbing her eyes. _I probably look awful. _she groaned to herself. _I have the bed hair, the bed breath, and the wrinkled pajamas to match. _

"Just putting that mongrel in his place." Luke hissed between gritted teeth and left to his room, where he hopefully was going to take a shower. It took a few moments for Annabeth to register what he had meant by mongrel, and she let out a gasp, breaking into a sprint once more. As she followed where Luke had come from, the soft crying grew louder, but still remained quiet and full of sorrow and loss. What had Luke done to the poor angel captive…what was his name…Perseus? Even if he had tried to kill him, he was still chained and defenseless inside his cell. Had that been Perseus' blood that was slathered all over Luke?

She came to the door of Perseus' cell and peeked through the bars. The image before her would forever be plastered to the back of her eyelids. There was blood everywhere, covering the walls and the floor, and mostly covering the angel. His hair was matted with it and it gushed in rivers from whip wounds on his back. The wing stumps were mangled horribly, bleeding profusely. Perseus was on his side, unmoving. His hand was stretched towards the door, reaching towards it as if he were begging for help from the outside, and his head was pillowed on his arm. The shackle on the outstretched wrist was stained red and the skin underneath it was deformed and ripped up. What had Luke done?

She quickly entered the code into the panel and the door opened with a groan. The angel didn't even look up. She walked over, leveling her sword at him as she inched closer. She prodded his shoulder gently with it and he let out a brutal screech, his body convulsing and writhing in agony. Annabeth leapt back, dropping the sword out of astonishment. A tear trickled down the angel's face and he whimpered. She couldn't form words. How could Luke have heartlessly done this? Sure, it may have been out of revenge, but at least he had gotten quick treatment when he was injured. This angel expected help from no one.

Reyna arrived at the cell door and gasped, staggering a little. "Get me some medicine and supplies." Annabeth ordered, her voice wavering. The girl didn't object as she took off down the halls once more. The leader of the Golden Swords approached the suffering angel, careful not to make any sudden movements and scare it even more than it already was. "Shh. Shh. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." she soothed, unsure that he even heard her. "I'm here to help." A single green eye opened and looked at her, glassy with tears. It was filled with agony, sorrow, suffering, fear, and was that…guilt? It seemed blank, dead, and lifeless, like the eyes of a person who had recently died, yet Perseus was still breathing raggedly and shallowly.

"He whipped me and beat me. It hurts." he whispered, so softly that I couldn't hear. He lifted his head weakly. "Are you here to hurt me, too?" Annabeth nearly broke down as his feeble words made her heart rip in two.

"No, no. I'm here to help. Just don't cry. It's okay. You're going to be fine. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you anymore." The angel let out a shaky sob. Annabeth knelt down beside him and her Owl pajamas immediately became red and soggy. She nearly threw up, but knew that that wouldn't ease the panicked angel. She touched the angel's back gingerly and he screeched at the top of his lungs, struggling in his chains. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Annabeth cried, running her hands through his matted hair, causing them to stain red like her pajamas. He seemed to calm down as she stroked his head and neck gently, whispering words of encouragement. Where the hell was Reyna?

As if on cue, the second in command dashed into the room, holding the gigantic first-aid kit. She had her eyes screwed shut as to not see the horrible scene in front of her, and she settled it down on the ground next to Annabeth, sprinting out of the room quickly. The leader immediately got to work, opening it up and sifting through the supplies. She needed to sterilize the wounds before bandaging them, or else they would becoming infected, ultimately leading to the angel suffering even more.

She produced some medical gloves and slipped them on, just in case the bacteria on her hands made the wounds sting, and they were already causing Perseus pain. She produced a bottle of water from the kit and uncapped it. "This is going to hurt." she whispered to him.

"Wha-?" Perseus' question melted into a horrible scream as Annabeth poured the water all over the wounds and onto his wing stumps. "Mercy! Mercy!" he pleaded faintly and struggled feebly as she continued to empty out the bottle on his back. "Make it stop!" A tear trickled down Annabeth's cheek and she discarded the water bottle, trading it for a medium-sized canteen full of morphine.

"Here. This will make it stop." She brought it to Perseus' lips and the angel lapped at it eagerly, gulping it down to the point where any human would have died of an overdose. It was sad that he needed, or wanted for that matter, so much morphine just to stop feeling the agony inflicted upon him. Annabeth watched him for a moment as his eyes fluttered closed and his face went slack. He began to snore softly and Annabeth's heart melted. How could Luke ever do this to him? She shook her head clear and concentrated on the task at hand. She produced a cloth that had been stained red from previous usages and pressed it to the wounds, cleaning all the blood off of them. Only the wing stumps continued to bleed, which made Annabeth worried; would they ever stop bleeding and if so, when?

She took out a surgical needle and thread and began stitching the wounds closed, though she knew that he would be able to heal on his own. It just felt right to speed up the process. She examined how deep the slashes were, and was surprise that he hadn't gone into a coma like all angels do. Then again, humans could take a numerous amount of whippings; only when they were injured to the point where a mortal would've died did they go into the coma. She flinched every time she made another stitch, wincing whenever she tied the knots. Now it was just the wing stumps that remained, and even though they had stopped bleeding they still looked pretty bad.

Annabeth had no idea what to do; all her years of first-aid didn't tell her how to treat wing wounds, for humans didn't have wings. Angels, on the other hand, did, and she didn't normally treat angels' wounds. She did the best she could at cleaning out the wound and bandaging it up. Annabeth surveyed her work and shivered a little; his back looked like Frankenstein's and the bandages on his wing stumps already were already becoming soggy. All that was left to do was wait. Annabeth sighed and gathered the angel in her arms, cradling him and whispering words of encouragement. No creature, human or angel, should suffer like this, no matter how much people think they deserved it.

After a long while of Annabeth rocking and whispering to him, the angel seemed to become conscious once more. He yawned broadly, revealing a cute pink tongue, and snuggled into the leader of the Golden Swords' shoulder. "It doesn't hurt anymore." he told her quietly. "Just on the inside."

"It's okay." she told him. "It's okay. You're safe now." He looked up at her, scanning her face as if to check if she was joking or not. Annabeth gently pressed his head back into her shoulder. "I'll make sure nothing will ever happen to you. I promise."


	13. Chapter 13

**(A/N) Sorry about the long update. School and Christmas are kind of getting in the way.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, only the plot**

Perseus looked up at Annabeth and their gazes met. Her grey eyes were sparkling in the thin slivers of light that slanted through the cell door, and half of her face was concealed in shadow. She had tried and failed to get the Golden Swords to release him, being out-voted two to four, with Reyna being her only ally due to the fact that she had seen the state Perseus had been in on that terrible night. She had admitted that she had been opposed to letting him roam in his room, but assured him that she had thought rashly; she had barely known him before she'd voted, and that may have been the reason that she'd opposed.

He let Annabeth cradle his head in her lap, something that only the people he truly trusted had been allowed to do. She ran her hands through his messy hair, combing it with her fingers. It felt rather soothing to the angel and he relaxed in his chains. Thankfully Luke had been ordered by Annabeth to stay away from the cage or risk punishment, but Perseus kept track of all the times that the buff blonde glared at him when he walked past the cell door. Perseus was on extra precaution; he refused to eat any food that Luke had given him, for fear that he'd poisoned or drugged it, which was highly likely. The only food that he accepted were those that came from Reyna and Annabeth. He was wary of everyone else.

"You're very handsome." she said quietly and Perseus sensed her heartbeat speeding up. He didn't comment on that, though, focusing mainly on the compliment. It made his cheeks flush darkly and his mouth went dry.

"Thanks." his voice wavered a bit, but as a whole he sounded pretty professional. "I get it from my parents."

"Who were perfect." she added with a sigh. "You angels have it good. You get to fly while we have to walk. You have the looks of a god while we suffer with acne and freckles. Your voice is like a chorus while ours…well let's just say that some of us humans sound like we are mimicking a whale's mating call." The two of them laughed at that, but Perseus' frown dampened the mood. It clearly stated: _But I _can't _fly. _It ripped Annabeth's heart in two, but she knew that Jason was now benefitting from the wings. He had told her that he would be stopping by sooner or later, and she was honestly looking forward to the level-headed Jason Grace arriving. He could sort this mess out and get everyone back on track.

"Speaking of chorus," she began. Perseus seemed to perk up at this and he craned his neck to look at her. "Can you sing?"

"No." he replied quickly and averted his gaze, his cheeks turning an even darker red. "I mean, I'm not that good."

"I bet you're wonderful. You can do it." Annabeth urged and gave the angel a peck on the cheek. His eyes went wide and the color on his face was generally reserved for tomatoes. He seemed tongue-tied; his lips were moving, forming words, but none of which Annabeth could hear. Instead of speaking, he began to sing a quiet little melody. There were no words, but the emotion and feeling that he packed inside his song hit Annabeth like a tidal wave. It was as if someone had combined the sounds of the instruments that made the most beautiful melodies and packed it into the voice box of this one angel. His volume was just above a whisper, but it seemed as if he were blasting. The song was sad and slow, and the passion that was used to form the notes was beyond any human comparison. It was mesmerizing and beautiful.

It took a few moments before the leader of the Golden Swords had registered that Perseus had stopped swimming. Her thoughts were blended, but in a good way. She felt relaxed. Comforted. Safe. The angel looked up at her with gorgeous green eyes that would cause the ocean to make a run for its money. "That was…amazing." she said finally after her vocal cords began working again. "It was beautiful and…oh I can't describe it. How can you _do _that?"

"It's not a coincidence that people compare beautiful music to angels singing. It's in my blood." Perseus replied sheepishly, but he was still smiling. He seemed ecstatic that Annabeth had enjoyed his short performance, and even more embarrassed that he had been singing to a mortal.

"Listen, I have to go to a meeting. I'll be back in ten." Annabeth gently prodded Perseus off of her lap and rose to her feet. The angel made a squeaking sound.

"And leave me here alone?" he whimpered, giving her wide eyes that resembled that of a baby seal that needed help. God, she could hardly resist those baby seal eyes. He made his lower lip tremble for effect, and Annabeth wanted to just cuddle him to death. Why was he being kept caged up in this cold, dark cell? How could the rest of the Golden Swords deny those baby seal eyes!?

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." she promised and ruffled his already-unkempt hair. "It'll only be ten minutes." And with that she was gone, closing the cell door behind her. The angel so desperately wanted her to come back. He could just look at her pretty face all day, along with that honey blonde hair that framed it perfectly. Most of all, she protected him from Luke.

"I hope so." Perseus whispered and folded his hands in his lap. He examined the shackles around his wrists and picked halfheartedly at them, partially out of boredom and partially because they were making his skin irritated. He tested the strength of the chains and found himself struggling wildly against the thick links that smothered him and restrained him. He jerked and thrashed like an enraged animal, all the while cursing through gritted teeth.

"It's no use." Perseus froze as the sound of an all too familiar voice echoed throughout his cell. The angel immediately cowered, trying to get as far away as the chains would allow. Luke regarded him though the cell bars, smirking as he watched the angel tremble. He tried to punch the code in, but frowned when he finally figured out that Annabeth had changed the passcode to one that only she knew. "Touché, Annabeth." he muttered to himself in a rather irritated matter. Perseus still didn't move from his position, his eyes frozen wide. Aside from the furious trembling, he was as still as a statue.

"You look hungry." the much hated mortal commented and the angel's stomach chose that moment to let out a groan. A sadistic grin sliced across Luke's features and he slipped a food tray between the bars. "Dinner. I've been watching and you seem to have a fondness for blue things. So here you have it, blueberries with blue cookies and blue Gatorade."

"Do you think I am stupid?" Perseus hissed and flipped the tray over, scattering its contents across the ground. Luke feigned being insulted, but his blue eyes were blazing with a powerful, and rather frightening, fire. The angel held the mortal's gaze, but eventually averted his eyes. Seeming rather triumphant, Luke pulled out a box-shaped device, almost like a remote, from his pocket. That's when disaster struck. He pressed one of the buttons on the remote and the sound of the cell door unlocking reverberated around the cell.

Perseus let out the loudest shriek he could manage, but Luke only grinned, mockingly cleaning out his ear. "They can't hear you. Not even a scream like that could reach the meeting room. It's simply too far away, and the doors are soundproof. I have a feeling that our 'session' will not be disturbed."

"Annabeth will find out it was you. You know that's a fact." the angel hissed. "You injure me and Annabeth will return it by tenfold." Luke only laughed coldly at this and slipped the remote back into his pocket.

"Sure, I can't hurt you. And this would've been much easier for both you and me if you'd just eaten the food." he snarled and grabbed the Perseus' chin, tilting it up so that the angel was forced to look at him. "Will Annabeth really protect you when I destroy that pretty face of yours?"

"With what?" Perseus spat and Luke recoiled, wiping saliva out of his eyes. Even so, his hostile grin never wavered.

"This." he replied menacingly, producing a syringe filled with white powder. "I can't maim you, but maybe you can maim yourself." Perseus struggled violently as Luke approached, his fear escalating. He was not aware of what this powder was, but he could infer that it was some sort of mortal drug. Even angels could become addicted to things, especially the angel equivalent of heroin, called Raven Wing. That's what it was. Heroin.

Perseus lashed out at the mortal, but Luke grabbed his arm with one hand and held it in a death grip, and with the other hand he plunged the syringe into the angel's arm, releasing the highly addictive drug into Perseus' bloodstream. He could feel the heroin raging in his veins, but for some odd reason he felt good. Great, even. _That's just the drug telling you how to feel. _he scolded himself. As soon as it had started, it was over.

"I'll just leave this here." Luke sneered sadistically and placed the syringe down on the floor next to the trembling angel, along with a small pouch filled with the drug. "Just in case you need it." And with that, he left, slamming the cell door behind him. Perseus could hear his maniac laughing echoing down the halls as he returned to the meeting. The angel wasn't even sure how he slipped out in the first place, but all he could process was his world spiraling out of control.

Cold.

Pain.

Fear.

Restrain.

Suffering.

Emptiness.

Horror.

His head spun and his head throbbed. He wailed and curled up into a ball, noting at how he was wingless. What did he do to deserve this? Why did it have to be him? Why hadn't Jason just left him out on the streets? It would've been better for everyone. He couldn't control the depression as he sunk deeper and deeper, not even trying to struggle back to the surface. His life crumbled. Tears fell. How could he ever piece it back together again? How could he ever feel happy?

The angel turned his head to look at the syringe.

**P.S. DON'T DO DRUGS KIDS. DRUGS ARE VERY BAD. AND THEY WILL RUIN YOUR LIFE. DON'T BELIEVE ME? LOOK AT SOME HEROIN BEFORE AND AFTER PICTURES!**


	14. Chapter 14

**(A/N) Happy holidays, everyone! Just to let you guys know, I made up some of the last names for the Hunters of Artemis since their surnames were never mentioned. Sorry if the chapter is a little short. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, only the plot. **

"Listen, we had a deal. I supply you with your much-needed drug and you help me kill Annabeth the next time she enters your cell. How come you didn't do ask I asked, huh? What's going on in that noggin of yours?" Luke knocked on Perseus' forehead for effect. "Has the heroin gotten to your head already?" That struck a nerve, for the angel flinched as he made the remark. Averting his gaze, Perseus hugged himself and tucked his legs against his body. Luke had full control over him now. At any time that Perseus was disobeying him, he could easily cut his supply off and leave him suffering in the cold, dark cell.

"I can't." he whispered, his voice ragged. You could already see the effect just a month of being on the drug had on the angel's beauty. There were deep shadows under his eyes, which had sunken into his head. The green color of his irises, which had once been vibrant and beautiful, had turned dull and muddy. His lips were chapped and peeling, and his fingers were gnarled and simply disgusting. He hated Luke for that one day all those weeks ago, that one day that had sent his world spiraling out of control. He hated Luke more than he hated himself, and that was saying a lot.

"What do you mean 'I can't'? Sure, _you _can't, but _I _can; just lure her in here and I can finish her off. Once she's gone, all I have to do is get rid of Reyna and then guess who the leader of the Golden Swords becomes?" Luke pointed to himself with a crooked smile on his face. "Me."

"It's funny how you humans only think of yourselves without caring about what other people may think." Perseus growled. Luke threw his head back and laughed a hearty laugh.

"Oh, you're the one to talk!" he cackled and gestured to the pouch of the horrible drug nestled by the angel's feet. "It's starting to become noticeable, you know. You pitiful, rotten thing."

"I completely agree." Perseus replied quietly, looking down at his ugly, chained hands that were folded in his lap. His hands used to be beautiful. A nice tan, with perfect fingernails and skin as soft as silk. Now his hands didn't belong to him anymore; the tan had long since faded, replaced by a horrific chalky white, and is fingernails were chipped and jagged. They were rough and gnarled, covered with filth and muck. Clean all the dirt off and you'd see an old man's hands, not the hands that should belong to a celestial being. The drug had ruined his life. Ruined who he was as an angel. There was no chance of redemption, now. No chance of going home.

"Well? Are you gonna do it right next time she's here." Luke hissed.

"Yes." Perseus replied. God, even his voice had changed. It was hoarse and ragged, as if someone had clawed at his throat to shreds.

"You better, or I cut your supply off for three days." And with that, Luke left, slamming the door behind him. A lot had changed in the Golden Swords' headquarters. A new member had been added, his name being Will Solace. He was an excellent healer, and was usually the one to give the angel his monthly check-ups as Annabeth had instituted. He never was serious with them, though; he just checked for wounds and that was it. If he'd been serious, then he would find out just how much Perseus was mutilated.

The angel sat in silence, letting tears drip down his face. For a moment he considered taking more of the drug, but he fought the addiction; the more you consume it, the more it controls you and the faster it kills you. But Perseus had already taken too much, and the addiction was stronger than iron, as unbreakable as titanium. It clawed at him and urged him to take some more.

_Just a tad won't hurt. _

_Only a morsel. _

_No damage done. _

_It makes you happy. What's the harm? _

_More. _

_More. _

_More._

The voices rose from a coaxing whisper to a demanding screech, constricting the poor angel and taking control of his thoughts. Without thought, Perseus produced his needle and his pouch of the drug, which Luke usually confiscated every time he visited to keep their exchange a secret. He filled the syringe, as he had done many times before, and injected it into his arm. He didn't even feel the prick of the needle as it allowed the heroin to flow forth into his bloodstream.

It felt good, giving the angel a tingling feeling. He let out a deep breath, and along with it went each and every one of his worries, including his worries about his addiction, which was rather ironic. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing the drug to soothe and comfort him, wrapping him into an embrace that no other thing could possibly do. He completely forgot that the needle was still in his hand, and he certainly didn't hear the footsteps coming down the hall that certainly weren't Luke's.

-Ω-

**Earlier…**

_Jason was glad with is new life. No more Candymen. No more debt. No more Golden Swords. No more double shifts. And last but certainly not least, no more angels. No. More. Angels. He sighed and relaxed into the couch that was more comfortable than his bed back at the slums. Sure, he visited his friends back at the Golden Swords' headquarters once in a while, but he didn't have to trudge through that place on a daily basis anymore. The new kid, Will Solace, was a good guy. Blonde, tan, lean, blue-eyed, dazzling white smile, muscular physique. Seriously, how did Annabeth and Reyna manage not to swoon around him? _

_He put his thoughts aside and turned to Thalia, who strut down the hall in the new dress that Jason had bought her for her birthday. She twirled and Jason gave her a thumbs up. Now that they weren't in poverty anymore, Thalia had finally forgiven her brother after years of grudging against him. Their relationship wasn't as strong and as fun as it once was, but at least they could salvage it after a long time of avoiding one another as they struggled to make ends meet. Now they were basically rich, and Thalia was able to join a very popular girl band. _

_It was called The Hunters of Artemis and it consisted of Naomi Stein on guitar, Phoebe Regis on bass, Celyn Clair on drums, and Zoe Nightshade as backup singer. Last, but certainly not least, is Artemis Stargazer as the lead singer. She was gorgeous, athletic, and had a pretty damn good voice. It was too bad she was a hardcore feminist along with the rest of her band, and she despised men more than the rest did. _

_Thalia met the group of very popular girls at the nearby beach not long after she and her brother had moved, and when they learned her tragic life story and her revulsion to men, they immediately offered her a position as another backup singer, who could also play the acoustic guitar when needed. Jason's sister spent a lot of time on tour now or hanging out with the band to rehearse or come up with new songs. It became lonely for Jason at times, but the loneliness never stayed long. It wasn't that different than when they weren't getting along; she'd do anything to get away from him, even take extra hours at work if it meant avoiding coming face to face with her brother. _

_Thalia took a seat next to Jason and ruffled his hair. "Now you be good while I'm gone. I can't believe we're going to the Grammy Awards! We've been dreaming of this for…forever!" she hugged him. "Try not to break anything." _

_"__I won't. I think I'm going to go hang out with my friends for a bit and staying there for a few days, and trust me, we'll all be routing for you guys. All the other artists better watch out, because the Hunters of Artemis are going to win every Grammy you're nominated for." Jason assured his sister. Her face darkened at the mention of his friends, but she quickly smiled; she wasn't going to have her mood dampened by her brother's whereabouts. _

_"__The limo will be here soon." she told him. "God, I'm going to be all the way in Los Angeles while you're going to be in those slums…" Thalia trailed off, chewing on her lip. Jason put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. _

_"__I'll be fine, Thals. Promise. Now I'd better get going. You're friends hate me. Break a leg." he kissed her on the cheek and stood up, putting on his coat and grabbing his car keys from the counter. He waved goodbye to his sister as he closed the door, but she didn't wave back. _

-Ω-

Two blue eyes stared at Perseus through the bars, filled with awe. The angel fumbled the needle in his hand and quickly tried to hide it, but the damage had been done. Jason gaped at him on the other side of the barred door, his mouth hanging open like a door with a broken hinge. Jason would be more disgusted with him than he had been before. Why was he here? Hadn't he left the Golden Swords for good? It didn't matter now. Jason certainly wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Perseus." he whispered. The angel lowered his head, burning with shame and self-hatred. The sound of the cell door open made his heart sink even further; Annabeth had given the stupid mortal the code to the cell. Why wouldn't she? Jason was a trustworthy human, unlike the angel Perseus, who was a backstabbing heroin addict that would do anything in order to keep his supply of his drug. He felt Jason kneeling down beside him, but he didn't dare look to see the expression on his face. Perseus felt the human gently slipping the needle from his hand with a tenderness that he did not know Jason possessed. Another hand fumbled around and finally grasped the small pouch filled with Perseus' drug.

The angel knew that Jason was opening it, as he heard him inhale sharply. "Well, we have a problem." Jason said flatly.

"No shit." Percy hissed and his vision began to swirl. Pretty soon, everything faded to blackness.


	15. Chapter 15

**(A/N) Merry whatever the hell you celebrate! In this chapter, you will learn a lot of stuff about Heaven and angels! I got most of this from a book called, well, The Book of Angels by Todd Jordan and illustrated by Ruth Thompson, L.A. Williams and Renae Taylor. It's a very amazing book and you should check it out. So, I dedicate most of this information to the Book of Angels. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, I only know the plot. Also, all of the information about angels that comes in later in this story all is from the Book of Angels. **

Jason had no idea how he managed to "rescue" Perseus from that God-awful facility. He basically told Annabeth that he was taking the angel back to his house and she was just like, "Ok." How was she so nonchalant? Had she befriended Perseus? It was very likely; Perseus would be on his best behavior around her due to his massive crush. Of course, the other members didn't know about this "liberation" since if they did they'd probably blow their tops, but they'd probably figure it out sooner or later, after all one of them had to come feed him. But take one glace ant poor Perseus and you knew that they didn't feed him that much.

It was risky for Jason to take the angel back to his house, even if Thalia was off with the Hunters of Artemis. Speaking of which, he'd probably missed the Grammies. He'd just have to watch the re-run because at that moment he had much bigger problems on his hands.

At the moment Perseus was just lying on his bed, staring at his savior. Jason couldn't help but notice how dull and sunken his eyes were, probably as a result of the drug. Jason had no idea how to ease the angel off of the addiction, but for now Perseus was allowed to use the minimal supply in the pouch. Both Jason and the angel knew that it wouldn't last forever, and that they would be in big trouble when the drug ran out.

"Thank you." Perseus managed to whisper. "Thank you." Jason was kneeling next to his bed and his head was level with the angel's, so Perseus gave him a little Eskimo kiss. There was no affection behind it, just gratefulness. It made Jason's heart twist into all sorts of shapes. He stroked the angel's hair and found it coarse and rough, unlike last time he'd seen him when it had been glossy and smooth. Tears threatened to spill, but Jason blinked them away. For Perseus' sake.

"Jason?" the angel asked quietly. The blonde's head snapped to attention and he staggered to his feet.

"Do you need anything, Perseus? Food? Water? Blue cookies?" A small smile formed on the angel's chapped and peeling lips.

"Not what I had in mind, but they would be nice." he chuckled and then winced, as if his body was punishing him for being happy. "But before you leave, I'd like you to start calling me Percy."

"Percy." Jason repeated, as if testing the name on his tongue, the name that the angel had originally forbade him from saying. "I like that name." He quickly rushed to the lavish kitchen, where the cook was waiting. She hadn't questioned Jason when he'd hauled Percy into the house, carrying him bridal-style. She had probably supposed that it was just one of Jason's friends that was exceedingly drunk. "Can I get some blue cookies?"

"_Blue _cookies?" the cook asked in bewilderment. "Why blue?"

"I dunno. I just feel in the mood for them." Knowing Jason's monstrous appetite and his occasional cravings for odd foods such as calamari for breakfast and chocolate Chex for dinner, the cook only rolled her eyes and began preparing the meal. Jason thanked her wholeheartedly and rushed back to his room, where Percy was currently residing. He had no idea how long the angel would be staying, but he was determined to make Percy comfortable until his addiction was cured. Jason heard that recovering was rare and even if it worked it could take weeks, maybe even months, and Jason certainly couldn't take his friend to the hospital; they would be suspicious about his whip scars and about the two wing stumps that still stood ugly and deformed on his shoulder blades, not to mention his horrible emaciation.

He opened the door to find Percy standing up, looking out the window. He was disappointed that he hadn't been there to assist the angel when he tried to walk, but he brushed it aside. "You sure have a wonderful view." Percy breathed, his green eyes searching the ocean as if he were trying to find an answer within it. "Last time I saw this beauty was in…in…in Heaven."

"You don't have to think about it." Jason told him gently as he walked up beside him. Percy gave him a forlorn look, the corners of his mouth turning downwards.

"Apparently people say it helps to express your sour memories to others." he replied, lowering his gaze to his feet.

"Take your time." the former angel hunter replied and placed a hand on Percy's shoulder.

"Oh, I don't have to say it verbally." Percy told him. "I can show you. The painful part is that I relive the memories you're seeing."

"What, are you going to put on some sort of PowerPoint presentation?" Jason asked at an attempt for humor. Percy chuckled at this, revealing dimples that would make any person coo as if they were mooning over an adorable kitty cat.

"No, not that." he snorted. "I need you to hold out your hands. And you have to promise that you won't convey this information. If you do, well I'll have to execute you."

"That's a joke, right?" Jason laughed. Percy wasn't laughing.

"Who said it was a joke?" Jason's face fell. "Anyway, even if I did have to kill you I doubt I'd be able to in this condition. Then the Archangels would cast me into Hell for not killing you."

"Harsh." Jason whistled.

"Very." Percy replied flatly.

"So, Archangels are like the head honchos? The most powerful angels in existence?" Jason asked.

"No, actually. That's a very common mistake amongst you mortals. It's actually very complicated, you see-" Percy paused, thoughtful for a moment. "You know what, let me just show you. And remember, no talking, writing, gossiping, zip." He mimed zippering his mouth closed. Jason nodded as a signal that he'd gotten the message. He held out his hands and locked gazes with the angel, his blue eyes hard with determination. Percy looked hesitant. "Are you ready? The emotions and the sensations can be very real…"

"I'm certainly ready. You're not." Jason told him sharply. "Are _you _ready?" Percy seemed rather reluctant and fretful, but his expression of worry turned into that of raw willpower. He took a hold of Jason's hands and immediately light began to swarm Jason's vision. The former angel hunter began to panic, even though he kept telling himself over and over that it wasn't real. Pretty soon he was plunged deep into Perseus' memories.

_The chilly wind whipped Jason's hair and made the hairs on his arms stand on end. It beat against his face and ruffled his feathers. Wait a moment…feathers? He looked to his left and saw a huge black wing angled against the wind, its feathers fluttering as the currents lifted Jason upward. _"You're seeing through my eyes." _Percy's voice in his head explained. _"You're just kind of here in my mind. I'll do all of the movement, you just watch." _The angel angled his wings so that he swerved to the right, doing zigzags and loop-de-loops. Jason had never felt more alive as the clouds soared past. He could see the houses and buildings from up here, but they looked like little toys. Tiny dots that must've been cars zipped down mini-streets. _

_Percy then shot into the sky, so quickly that any ordinary mortal would've gotten whiplash. _"I prefer you don't think about whips, Jason." _Percy told him with a shiver. Jason immediately got the idea and cleared his head, thinking of only here and now. He felt his heart…or Percy's heart, whatever…lift as the freedom of flight coursed through his veins. The wind made him alert and alive and the altitude didn't make him at all lightheaded. His powerful wings beat like bass drums as they carried him farther and farther into the sky. _

_All of a sudden, Percy plucked one of the many downy, useless feathers that were almost coming off of his wings and tossed it in front of him. Light engulfed his vision, along with Jason's, and when it cleared Percy could no longer see the ground, just endless sky below. A huge cloud loomed overhead, blocking the sun and shrouding the angel in shadow. This was a huge cloud; if you could see Asia's shape from below, then that's how big the cloud was. Thousands of tiny little dots buzzed about, but as he neared the cloud, they took the forms of winged humans. _

_They were a motley of boys and girls, adults and children, light skin and dark skin, black hair and white hair with all the colors in between, and wing colors of all shapes and sizes. _"This is the First Heaven, Shamayim." _Percy told Jason. _"It's ruled by Archangel Gabriel. It's partially connected to Earth, so mortals can come and go if they had the technology, but that won't be discovered for another hundred thousand years. Speaking of technology, Shamayim is known for its angelic astrologers who watch over all the stars in the universe." _Jason thought about this for a moment._

"Wait a minute, there is more than one Heaven?" _Jason asked. _

"Yes, there are seven of them. There are separate names for each one, and therefore Heaven is just a universal, all-inclusive term for the Seven Heavens." _Percy replied. As he neared the huge cloud, he said, _"Fun fact: Shamayim, since it is connected to Earth, it is the Heaven that displays most resemblance to it. It has a natural atmosphere and surface water, but there are more fantastic things than that; the trees bear twelve harvests a year and the land is seven times brighter than silver. You can get this information from the Book of Enoch, of course."

_The angel soared over the cloud and looked over the huge expanse of land that resided on top of it. Jason and Percy sucked in a breath, watching its beauty. Streams and rivers snaked across the land and there were angels everywhere, zipping about from place to place. Many of them had telescopes and were peering through them, even though it was daytime out. Jason suspected that the angels' technology was far more advanced than the humans', and therefore their telescopes could see stars in the daytime. A huge palace loomed in front of them, made of glistening marble and a golden roof. There were windows that messenger angels slipped in and out of, carrying scrolls. _"That's Archangel Gabriel's palace." _Percy told Jason. _

"Wow, it makes the Queen of England's palace seem like a Barbie Dream House." _Jason remarked, startled at how gigantic it was. It could house all of the world's homeless people under a single roof. How long had it taken to build it? Probably only a day or two when you had the angels' strength and ability to fly. _

"Wait until you see Michael's palace. Anyway, here in Shamayim is where all messenger angels are born. Well, not necessarily born, but created." _Percy explained. _

"By whom?" _Jason asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer. Even so, Perseus had clearly stated that most humans had misconceptions when they thought of Heaven. Apparently, there were Seven Heavens instead of one, so it didn't hurt to ask. _

"The Creator, the Almighty, the Father, the Supreme Being; God." _the angel replied. Before Jason could open his mouth again, he said, _"Every religion has some form of God and some form of angel. God is a universal name for the Creator and when it comes down to it, He shows up in almost every culture or religion. Of course some religions are polytheistic, which is totally fine by us, but most of them, including the Greeks and the Romans, have that head honcho; Zeus, Jupiter, and all of the other lead gods somehow can relate to this God. And of course, Archangel Michael is the only, and I mean _only _angel who can call God G-man. Even then, he gets threatened, so he usually abstains from it."

"Next Heaven?" _Jason asked. Perseus plucked another one of his feathers from his wings and tossed it into the air. Once again, light filled their vision and they were right below another cloud. This one was smaller than the First Heaven, yet instead of being white the cloud was dark and the occasional lightning bolt flashed overhead. Percy had to work his wings overtime to overcome the savage wings and roaring thunder. Rain began to pour down in sheets and the angel cursed in a language that was rather alien to Jason. His feathers became soggy, but he managed to launch himself higher into the sky. Eventually, he was able to land, but he was then greeted by several guards, all of them being fire angels. _

_He allowed them to take a feather sample to conclude that he wasn't a Risen fallen angel, which was a fallen angel that was granted wings by Lucifer. _"Why didn't they do this in the First Heaven?" _Jason inquired. _

"Raquia is the Second Heaven, and is sort of a big prison. Most people believe that the original fallen angels, the ones who were led by Satan in the War in Heaven, were all cast to Hell to rot and fester into demons. But a few were spared and they wait here in this prison in complete darkness to wait for the Day of Judgment to answer for their betrayal. On a happy note, the soul of John the Baptist resides here." _Percy told him. _

"Why would John the Baptist _ever _want to live here?" _Jason scoffed. _

"I dunno, but fallen angels do get mortally burned when touched by Holy Water, so I guess John parades around waving a huge bucket full of Holy Water yelling, 'DIE! DIE!' Though I think Archangel Raphael, the ruler of this Heaven, keeps him under control." _Percy snickered. _

"He sounds like my fifth grade coach." _Jason snorted as he remembered the grumpy old Coach Hedge, who was short but would send you the principle ASAP if you even had your shoes untied. Most of Jason's classmates had said he was a demon possessing a midget's body. With all of this demon and angel madness going on in his life, he wouldn't be surprised if the rumors had been true. _

"Raquia is my least favorite Heaven. Can we go now?" _Percy asked him, to which Jason gave the angel permission. _

"Wait…this happened? Like, you visited all the Heavens at the same time we want to go and at the same time we want to leave?" _Jason questioned. _

"Good question. No, actually. I'm just taking you into my memories and constructing what our journey would look like based off of all of my reminiscences of the Heavens." _Percy replied, but he sounded distracted due to the fact that he had to do the whole feather thing to get to the Third Heaven. Jason found himself watching through Percy's eyes like last time as he shot towards a cloud that was a light grey, a mix between the cloud colors of the First and Second Heavens. It was even larger than the First Heaven from where Percy was looking, and Jason couldn't help but be in awe; this place was actually real. _

"This is the Third Heaven, Sheaquium/ Sagan, and it's ruled by Azriel." _the messenger angel told Jason. _

"You mean the Death Guy that killed all of the firstborn children of the Egyptians? Creepy; it's like how Hades rules the Underworld." _Jason remarked. He had no idea why he was relating to Greek mythology, but it just felt right. _

"Sort of like that, except Azriel is ten times more powerful. This Heaven is where all of the souls go; the good people, but it's kind of dangerous here; the northern border touches Hell." _Percy told Jason, his voice taking on a dark undertone. Apparently, Percy didn't like to speak of Hell, but who actually liked talking about Hell? Okay, Satan and demons and fallen angel and damned souls probably loved talking about Hell, but they didn't count since they lived there. _

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time-out. I thought that Hell was down under the Earth, not over it." _he noted, finally putting two and two together. _

"It's simple logic, Jason. Heaven and Hell are all part of the spiritual spectrum, and they're curved just like how the Earth his curved. The place where Heaven and Hell meet is kind of like the Equator for you, except it's as if two continents were connected; like Africa and the Middle East, only a certain part connects to them. In this case, Sagan is that 'certain part.'" _Percy replied. Jason was astonished at how much interesting information he was getting, and he was struggling to remember every single detail. The First Heaven? Think of astrologers. The Second Heaven? Think of prisoner fallen angels and John the Baptist. Third Heaven? Think of your dead grandma that died a few years ago. Unless your grandma was a terrorist. Then don't think of your grandma. _

_Jason and Percy observed the landscape with the same eyes, and Jason noted the lush beauty of the south, which was closest to them. It was gorgeous, with large fields of grass and flowers and forests. Jason swore he saw the flickering silhouettes of overjoyed people; a little girl who had a scar on her neck from where she was supposedly murdered, several old couples holding hands, a young man in a military uniform that was roughhousing with a ghostly German Shepherd, who was also dressed for war. It was happy and sad at the same time. Percy pointed to a huge tree, bigger than any tree that Jason had ever seen. Its leaves were golden even though it was springtime and its wood was dark. It had a golden aura and little ghost kids were playing on its roots. _"That's the Tree of Life." _Percy told him. _

_To the north, though, Jason could make out the silhouettes of horrifyingly tall and jagged mountains. They made Mount Everest seem a little unimpressive…okay, very unimpressive. Even from his far vantage point, Jason could see how fast the dense mop of clouds were; the wind must've been powerful enough to rip off human skin. But that wasn't the only thing that Jason saw in the north; beyond the mountains the sky ended. There was just blackness, like a void. Hell. The side of the mountains that were facing Hell seemed to be illuminated by some sort of light source. Jason turned to Percy for answers. _

"That's the River of Holy Flame on the other side. Any demon or damned soul that tries to cross it will burn into nothingness. Even the sparse few demons that have wings and fly across it will never make it to the south; they have to struggle with a multitude of Azriel's death angels that patrol." _Perseus replied. Just as the angel said this he saw the flickering form of an angel through the dense clouds that was soaring easily in the battering winds. _"Very skilled flyers, the death angels. Nico was one of the best…"

"NICO!? As in Nicolas!?" _Jason's sudden burst of horror caused Percy to momentarily stop beating his wings. He plummeted for a few horrifying seconds before he regained balance. _"Nicolas! You knew him!?"

"Of course I knew him, though I called him Nico or Neeks. He was one of my best friends before one of you members of the Golden Swords tore his wings out." _Percy sounded bitter, and Jason couldn't blame him. He was silent for a while and he could sense Percy's worry building up._

"I did it. It was my first hunt and I…I felt so guilty. I can't sleep ever without visions of him in my dreams, turning the, into nightmares. The images of Nicolas have long gone, now replaced by images of…you." _It was Percy's turn to be silent, and even though Jason couldn't sense any anger directed towards him, he knew that it was there. _

"I think it's time to go to the next Heaven." _Percy told Jason darkly and pretty soon they were flying over the most beautiful place he had ever seen. There were trimmed bushes, clusters of flowers, and even the occasional animal or two, including a few unicorns and pegasi. It was utterly awe-inspiring. The grass was greener here, an unearthly green that shimmered and sparkled with a rather silvery light. In the center of the garden was a big tree with tasty-looking apples. The juiciest apples that Jason had ever seen, in fact. _

"This is the Fourth Heaven, Machenon, is called Machen for short. The ruler is Archangel Michael, the king of the Archangels, though not the most knowledgeable angel." _Perseus explained. _"This, this is the Garden of Eden. When Adam and Eve were cast out, it resided here. That," _He pointed to the apple tree, _"Is the Tree of Knowledge. The one that got Adam and Eve kicked out in the first place."

"Wait, so you're saying that Archangel Michael _isn't _the most powerful angel?" _Jason gasped. What more angels did he have to look out for if the Archangels weren't the most powerful? _

"You're getting it all wrong." _Percy scoffed. _"Michael is the most powerful angel, but there are other angels that are simply more knowledgeable. In fact, Archangels are number eight in the nine orders that are numbered in proximity to God's grace." _If Jason wasn't currently in Percy's head, his mouth would've dropped open. There are SEVEN types of angels that are smarter than Archangels? I thought there were only six types of angels, and those were just subspecies! _

_Percy sensed Jason's confusion and explained, _"There are three, let's call them 'types' of angels: Angels of Contemplation, Angels of the Cosmos, and Angels of the Earth. These three 'types' split off into the nine orders, which then split off into different subspecies of angels, like how you humans classify animals. Let's start from highest to lowest. The orders go like this; Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangels, and then angels.

"Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones are all Angels of Contemplation. They have infinite knowledge and are exclusively involved with displays of divinity within Creation, and cluster their energies upon God. They do not interact with humans. They're all like, 'Oh, we're Angels of Contemplation, we don't tolerate you puny mortals.' Seraphim are the angels that sing eternally about God's grace and awesomeness. No, literally, they _cannot _stop singing; it is impossible for them to do so. They have three sets of wings and their singing produces a light so bright and divine that not even other angels can look at them.

"Cherubim are guardians of light and stars and the divine glow they emit covers the universe in warmth and love. Despite that, they are just plain _weird; _they have two sets of wings, the heads of lions, the torso and body of a man, and legs and hooves of a calf." _Percy shivered just thinking about them, though he had only ever met them once in his life. However he had never seen Seraphim, for only the Creator could see them. _

"Thrones are by far the creepiest things you can ever imagine. They involve themselves with celestial laws and justice; they're like the Judge Judys of Heaven. They sentence the guilty and free the innocent. They can literally see what you are thinking and know if you are guilty or not. They have immense knowledge and are very polite and humble, I can prove that since I've met many of them, but they are basically large intangible orbs or wheels that glow and have wings and reflective eyes, so it's kind of hard to take them seriously; even the Archangels can't help but snicker that their appearance. Did I mention that they live on the border between the spiritual and material worlds?" _Perseus paused to take a breath and Jason took as many mental notes as he could possibly cram into his head. _

"Next come the Angels of the Cosmos, which consist of Dominions, Virtues, and Powers. They uphold union between spiritual and material universes. Cool, right? It's a hell of a job, though. The Dominions' main purpose is to maintain the lines of communication between spiritual and material worlds. Like the Thrones, they exist on the line between the two planes of existence. They are able to change into whatever thing they want and have an infinite amount of eyes that look like tiny stars. They usually carry massive scepters with giant orbs on top all like, 'Hey, I'm a Dominion! I'm better than all of you!'" _Both Percy and Jason laughed at this, though they all knew that Dominions would look down upon them for doing so. _

"Virtues' main purpose is to dispense the energy of the Creator and the Angels of Contemplation throughout the universe. They also strive to transfer the infinite supply of energy from the Heavens to the material world. Ever had a blessing or a miracle happen to you?" _Percy asked. _

"Of course." _Jason replied._

"That's the Virtues at work. They are in charge of Heavenly Miracles and Blessings. They are composed entirely of pure angelic light that will melt the eyeballs of any mortal to be unlucky enough to look at them. Like other Angels of the Cosmos, they talk to and control the stars, planets, and suns, blah, blah, blah.

"Powers are in charge of all laws in the material world. Got sued? Powers have been a part of that. Trail? Powers oversee that, too. They maintain order and are guardians of peace and harmony. Their power is used to transfer to humans and strengthen their faith in God and stuff. They look like any other angel, thank goodness, but they usually have dark hair, dark eyes, and dark-colored wings, kind of like death angels."

"Nice to know that Powers are willing to back me up when I'm on trial for something I didn't do." _Jason noted and chuckled to himself._

"True, that." _Percy replied. He continued, _"Next come Angels of Earth, which consist of Principalities, Archangels, and angels. They are basically involved with all affair of mankind. They send dreams to warn or send floods to punish. Basically every aspect of your life is controlled or fated by Angels of the Earth…well, except the angel-hunting part. We are tasked with retribution, behavior, and diplomacy.

"Principalities are the overseers of the world's governments. They make sure that everything is in the right order when it comes to economy and stuff, but some things aren't always within their power, such as when a country is in debt. The affect humans by bringing structure to the abstract and vice versa, they encourage humans to push the boundaries of what is possible and impossible. Just for your information, all Angels of the Earth are basically perfect humans, both physically and genetically, so they are so much better-"

"Hey!" _Jason protested. _

"I was just teasing." _Percy snickered and continued, _"And they have wings. Not six, not four, just two, though they can vary in color. Next come Archangels, and since you know what they do I'll just list the five them; Michael, Gabriel, Azriel, Raphael, and Uriel. Lucifer was an Archangel, but he's Satan the Anti-Christ now so whatever.

"The Angels, on the other hand, are the only order that has subspecies. And there are actually eleven subspecies, not five." _Percy told Jason. If Jason had been drinking something, which he wasn't since he was inside Percy's head, he would've spit it out all over him. TEN? God, he was glad he wasn't able to tell anyone else; if they'd gotten a hold of this information from him they just might've stormed into Heaven while waving swords and yelling "DIE! DIE!" Like Coach Hedge and John the Baptist in the Second Heaven. _"There are fire angels, death angels, angels of music, angels of nature, angels of power, angels of art and beauty, guardian angels, messenger angels, building angels, and fallen angels. Their names are kind of self-explanatory." _Jason was silent for what seemed like hours; he was just thinking of all of the angels that the Golden Swords could've misclassified. _

_Finally, he broke the awkward silence, _"Wanna go to the Fifth Heaven?"

_Percy took one last look at the Heaven that he used to live in. he longed to travel into the palace that loomed far to the east, where Michael would've welcomed him with open arms. But he couldn't, for this was his subconscious and all of the other angels were just manifestations in his mind; they weren't. To get away from the pain and the bittersweet memories, he said, _"Good, my wings are getting tired from hovering here."

_Percy insisted on landing in the Fifth Heaven, though Jason was sour about this due to the fact that he couldn't get a vantage point. It turns out, he didn't need one. The two of them sucked in a breath as beautiful harmonies and melodies wafted into their ears, and it sounded like unearthly singing. _"The Seraphim." _Percy told Jason excitedly._

"If the Seraphim are here and they always stick around God, then that means…" _Jason trailed off, shocked as he put the pieces together. A huge castle that covered almost half of the Heaven, which was pretty big, mind you, and was made of gleaming white marble. There were glass domes, golden roofs, and arched windows. Music like hymns and hosannas wafted from the huge double doors, which were open and welcome to all. However, beyond the door was only white light that hurt Jason's eyes if he looked at it too long. It radiated from the windows and the domed roofs, covering the palace in a bright aura._

"Yup." _Percy said proudly. _"The Fifth Heaven, Mathey/Machon, in some traditions is said to be where God resides. Of course, He moves from Heaven to Heaven depending on what He has to do. Check on the stars? He disperses part of His form to the First Heaven, and so on and so on for all the other Heavens. Along with Shehaquim, Machon's northern border also touches Hell, except there aren't any mountains or fiery rivers to stop the demons from coming over. In fact, Machon touches the Ninth Circle of Hell, where Samael, or as you call him Lucifer or Satan, lives." _Jason looked at the northern horizon and gulped; the other half of the island that was on taken up by God's quarters was definitely Hell. The sky ended and was replaced by that void again, and demons slunk across the border, staying in the dark side of the Heaven, which was actually the Ninth Circle of Hell. A huge castle, quite unlike the Creator's, stood atop a jagged spire of rock. Thunder boomed and red lightning flashed overhead like a crack in a sidewalk. That was where Samael lived. Satan. The Anti-Christ. Lucifer. The Devil. The Lord of Darkness. He was there. _

_A frozen lake covered most of Samael's side, and Jason swore he saw a huge serpentine tail that snaked from inside the castle to under the ice. _"Satan can take on many forms, his real form being like an angel, but with bat wings and horns. That's what happened to the original fallen angels, the Watchers, as they are called. If you spend enough time in Hell, you become a demon. Angels' feathers melt away to reveal bat wings and two horns sprout from their heads. Humans rot and corrupt until they look like them," _Percy gestured to the small demons. _

"Anyway, Lucifer can also take the form of a three-headed dragon, which he turned into during the War in Heavens, and he was horrifying, powerful, indestructible, and badass all at the same time. Trust me since I was there. Luckily, Archangel Michael was able to chain him up singlehandedly and toss him into Hell. Now he resides in the Ninth Circle, but part of his tail is frozen in the Riven Cocytus." _he explained. _"That ice is thicker than the Empire State Building is tall. He hasn't gotten out, but he struggles like nobody's business. It keeps him anchored there. As for the demons who are free, well they can't get across the border; the Seraphim's light and singing along with God's divine presence would incinerate them. But it isn't one-sided, though; if we angels crossed over to the Hell side, Samael's hellish aura of hatred and evil would fry us."

So all of the Earth and all of Heaven is protected by a frozen lake? _Jason thought bitterly._ And the angels can't even cross over to make sure his tail is still stuck? Sure, it's a very thick frozen lake, but this is Satan we're talking about.

"Do you know about Greek mythology?" _Percy asked Jason, who perked up at this. _

"Of course! I want to major in it when I get into college." _he told the angel excitedly. Percy chuckled to himself at how enthusiastic Jason was about this topic. _

"Well the Greeks were kind of true; not all of their myths are just phony stories to explain to the confused Greeks how things work. In order to get into the Nine Circles, you have to take a boat ride with the ferryman Charon, who was in Greek myths the son of Nyx and Erebus and brother to Thanatos and Hypnos, on the River Acheron, which was also in Greek myths.

"In the Third Circle, the gluttonous have filth and excrement rained on them while being gnawed on by Cerberus the three-headed dog, who in Greek mythology guarded the gates of the Underworld. There's a River Styx in the fifth Circle, which is what souls had to cross in order to get into the afterlife in Greek myths. Of course, the River Styx is much polluted and the evil souls of the wrathful choke on its mud for eternity. The frozen river Cocytus over there? That was a river in the Underworld that contained the cries of tortured souls. So basically Greek mythology and angelic lore are entwined." _Percy exclaimed. Jason was rather alarmed; if some Greek mythology was true, was it true that the gods existed. It was highly unlikely because he was seeing the palace of God with his own two eyes at the moment, but if the gods existed than that meant the inbreeding amongst them was also true. Yuck!_

_Percy massaged his tired wings, but he was used to it from flying from Heaven to Heaven, Archangel to Archangel. In a few quick beats he took off into the sky, the wind ruffling his hair and his clothes, which he had just realized where the clothes he wore when he was a messenger angel. His heart had homesick pangs and he decided to take his mind off of his birthplace by advancing to the next Heaven. Jason gasped as they neared a very large cloud, but that wasn't what caused him to cry out; seven huge fiery birds swooped and dove, each and every one of their feathers aflame. Phoenixes. _

_As they neared the top, Percy couldn't help but feel excited and sad at the same time. This Heaven was one of his favorites, and he was probably bias because he had to deliver messages there a lot. The phoenixes circled around the ascending angel, emitting cries that sounded like blasts of Seraphim song. _"Fun fact: Phoenixes can render you deaf with that cry of theirs if they wanted to. We are currently approaching the Sixth Heaven, Zebul. Kind of a funny name. Zebul. Ha." _Percy snorted as if it was funny. Jason didn't find it at all amusing; what if they decided to do their deafening call right there and then? Would he go deaf in the real world, too? _

_As they neared the top, golden feathers began to flutter down and roaring could be heard. Was this another Heaven that was connected to a Circle of Hell? Is so, then they were flying up on the wrong side. Percy smirked as he registered Jason's awful worrying. This was his subconscious, not the real world. It wasn't as if they were in danger of dying or anything. When they reached the top, Jason let out a giddy squeak. Seven Cherubim wandered over this small Heaven, which was no bigger than Manhattan Island. Others would probably say, "Manhattan Island? That's HUGE!" But the Cherubim that were walking along its surface were so large that it made it look like it was just the living room of a house. Other angels zipped about with quick wings. _"The Sixth heaven is home to all angels that study art and science. The cool part is that they mark time and the extensiveness of the cosmos from here." _the angel explained. _"Not my kind of job. The work hours are horrifying."

_Percy few approximately one hundred feet into the air, and even then he only came up to the Cherubim's torsos. They paid us no attention, roaring to communicate with each other. Their hooves made a very annoying clopping sound on the rocky ground, but that was masked by the elegant beauty of them. _Their wings are more massive than Archangel Michael's. _Percy thought. _But they don't count since they're part lion part calf part bird and not just part man/woman part bird. _The wings were indeed massive; each tan-brown feather that matched their lion heads sparkling in the light. _

_Three of the seven Cherubim had lioness heads instead, so Jason could assume that they were female rather than male. The seven phoenixes each flew onto their respected Cherubim's shoulders, clucking and whistling while rubbing up against their owners affectionately. _"The bond between these seven Cherubim, the most powerful Cherubim, and their phoenixes is larger than any bond between men and animals. They trust each other completely, and with their lives. These seven Cherubim rule this Heaven, so therefore there is no archangel to rule it." _Jason whistled at this. So he really didn't know his cat Fluffy as much as he thought he did, not to mention Tempest his grey stallion who had a bad temper and needed attitude adjustment. _

"Next Heaven?" _he asked._

"Sure." _Percy replied._

_The next Heaven was second in grandness only to the Fifth Heaven where the Creator resided. Lush flowers shot into the air and bloomed all of the colors of the rainbow. The grass was lush and Jason was almost positive that he could face-plant and have it feel like he was landing on a cushiony mattress. Then he saw the locals and his mouth dropped open. There were angels everywhere, but instead of regular angels there were Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones. Of course, Jason could only see huge bright lights were the Seraphim were, and soon after had to avert his eyes. The lion-headed Cherubim here were smaller than the seven Cherubim back at the Sixth Heaven, but they certainly had a good finale; this was the last Heaven. _

_Thrones flew about, their wheel-like shape exactly how Percy described them. They were kind of funny looking, being wheels/orbs with wings, but the powerful aura they emitted and the pure intelligence that festered in their reflective eyes made them kind of intimidating. There was a large building to the west, and Jason turned to Percy to learn what it was. _"That's the Guph." _the angel breathed. _"I've only been there once but I still remember it as if the image was plastered to the back of my eyelids. It holds the souls of all of those who have yet to be reborn. The Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones don't really like visitors, but they allowed me to see the Guph when I was delivering a message. The little souls were just the cutest thing; little babies that are still waiting to be born. Their souls, their personalities, their…life is there!"

"Wow." _Jason sighed. He looked over all of the land, how beautiful it was and how blue the sky was. It was, literally Heaven. _"We've been here for a while. I think it's time to go back."

"Just a few more moments!" _Percy pleaded. He couldn't let go of his past life as a messenger angel. He looked at his wings and only saw fakes. They weren't real. He looked at the sky and knew it was imaginary. Everything that he had just seen was just memory, as well as the sounds and smells that he craved like, well, his drug. He wished he could stay here forever, living amongst his own thoughts in his imaginary world, but that would mean he would end up in limbo, lost in his mind forever. He wouldn't be able to come back to reality, just live in this fakeness and bittersweet memory. Each day would be exactly like the last and eventually he'd waste away. _

Jason jolted awake, as did Percy. He immediately looked at the clock and saw that not even a minute had passed. He ran to the kitchen and saw that the cook wasn't even done making the batter for the blue cookies. How was this possible? He had gone into Percy's subconscious world for what seemed like a good few hours. How had only a few seconds passed? Jason quickly hurried back to Percy's room, where he saw that the door was closed. He tried the doorknob. Locked.

"Percy?" he cried, his voice filled with panic as he pulled and jiggled the doorknob.

"Please, Jason. I don't want you to see me scrounging for my drug like a filthy worm." the angel's voice was depressed. Very depressed. He had seemed so happy in his memories of Heaven, where he could fly and enjoy his time as a messenger angel. That's when Jason got an idea. It was a crazy idea, but still an idea all the same. He grabbed his coat and jacket, informed Percy and the cook that he'd be leaving for a while, and ran to his car. After he'd pulled out of the driveway, he began to drive towards the slums, all the way to the Whisper.


	16. Chapter 16

**(A/N) ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT ALREADY! SINCE SO MANY OF YOU ARE ASKING I WILL INCORPORATE NICO INTO THE STORY! JESUS CHRIST, EVERY OTHER REVIEW IS "WHEN IS NICO GOING TO COME IN" OR "ARE THEY GOING TO MEET NICO."**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO**

Jason felt like he was being molested. No, really; every other minute he spent in the Whisper he had a prostitute draping herself all over him. They were touching him in places that he thought skirted across the line and into the sexual-offense category, and he certainly wasn't enjoying it. He was exhausted; he had been searching in vain for the one person he knew could fix this mess he was in, but the search had mostly been based off of the hope that this certain person was a regular at the Whisper, since he had seen him once before.

_Jason held a nameless guardian angel's wings in his arms, their piebald feathers concealed by the blanket. He slunk to where he was supposed to meet his client, sticking to the shadows to avoid any watchful eyes, and stopped. Dancing in the crowd, he saw a familiar face. Black hair and brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black. He looked up and their gazes locked, but Jason quickly melted into the shadows before the black-haired young man could register what he had just seen. _

After shoving off yet another seductive vixen, he began to shoulder his way through the crowd of writhing bodies on the dance floor. The tight space made it even more uncomfortable and invading, even though he knew that the dancers, who were mostly drunk, didn't intend to brush their hands across parts that he preferred not to be touched. Jason ground his teeth together and grimaced, squeezing through the mob that was packed tighter than sardines in a can.

He made his way over to the lavish couches, which surprisingly didn't have stains from spilled wine or puking drunks. There was a plush and fuzzy carpet underfoot, and it didn't seem to match the wild atmosphere; it looked like it belonged in a kid's room and not in a casino/night club/strip club/bar. Jason collapsed onto one of the couches, wiping at the sweat that was dripping down his face. It was as hot as hell in here, with all of the bodies crammed together, and by the smell most of them didn't use deodorant. There must've been an air conditioner around here somewhere, but Jason supposed that all of the vents were being used to pump hallucinogenic stuff into the atmosphere to make sure that everyone was having a good time. Jason's vision tilted and spun, as if he had had too much to drink, though he hadn't even gone near the bar, but his thoughts weren't muddled and his face was only flushed due to the heat. That was probably the hallucinogens doing their work.

He grabbed his hair and balanced his elbows on his knees, breathing as if he'd just come from a long run. He knew he couldn't drive home tonight with his vision blurring like this; he'd have to sleep back at the Golden Swords' facility, but the thought of rest wasn't even beginning to touch his mind. He needed to find the person he was looking for, if he was here. That's when Jason looked up and saw him. His mouth dropped open, but he snapped it shut just in case anyone was watching.

Nicolas the fallen death angel had his legs crossed and was sitting on the couch opposite from the one Jason was occupying. Several woman were around him, each one fighting to get his attention. All were rather beautiful, but the fallen angel seemed quite uninterested. His onyx black eyes shined like coals and studied Jason with a slight familiarity, as if he were struggling to assign his face to a name. Luckily, Jason knew that his face had been hidden by a mask while he had chopped off the death angel's wings, but Nicolas' corded muscles and excellent build made him a little nervous. His blood ran cold when their gazes locked, and he quickly averted his eyes.

Nicolas did the exact thing that Jason didn't want him to do; he shoulders the women off of him, and with promises that he will return he left and stalked over to Jason's couch. The cushions dipped with the added weight as the fallen angel took a seat next to him. Nicolas was wearing black jeans with a leather jacket and combat boots of the same color. A silver ring shaped like a skull with ruby eyes regarded Jason coldly. It sent shivers down his spine.

"I think I know you from somewhere." Nicolas said. His voice was as smooth and soft as silk, but held a sharp edge in the undertone, as if there was a knife hidden under the fabric. Jason knew how to handle this question; the Golden Swords had drilled him to perfection and now he knew how to handle a question like this. He studied Nicolas' face for a moment, as if he were trying to analyze and figure out who this face belonged to. After several seconds that seemed to last forever, he shrugged.

"I'm afraid not, err…"

"Nicolas. But most people call me Nico, though in the gang worl I'm the Bringer of Bereavement." the fallen angel replied. Jason's brain gears began to spin when he registered the name that Nico had used long ago.

"I'm," he paused, remembering that Nico knew his name. It had been foolish of Annabeth to not use his code name when they were hunting the death angel, but then again there were dozens of Jasons in the world. Just to be safe, he said, "Adam." He held out his hand for a shake, but was left hanging.

"Hello, Adam. Fine name, by the way." Nico complimented, though there really was no sincerity behind it. "Sadly, you are not who I thought you were."

"Pardon?" Jason knew where this was going, but he was Adam now, not Jason. He didn't know that Nico was a fallen death angel, and he certainly did not know that 'Jason' had severed his wings.

"There is this young man, who has the same eyes as you, by the way, and his name was…Jason." Jason felt his heart quicken at the mention of his name. Nico continued, "Jason took, no, _stole _some things from me, and I need them back. You have no idea how much I want to have a word with him." The fallen angel cracked his knuckles.

"I know it's none of my business, but what exactly was stolen?" Jason knew that he was treading on dangerous ground; one slip of the tongue and he was in deep trouble.

"You're right, it is none of your business." Nico snarled, causing the blonde-haired young man to jump a little. Jason was aware of the fact that it was now or never; he needed to get the fallen death angel's attention and have him follow to a secluded place where they could talk. Jason desperately needed Nico's help; without it, Percy would die. He leaned in close to Nico before the angel could recoil, his breath fanning across his pale features.

"Perseus is here." he whispered and abruptly stood, quickly walking away as if nothing had happened in the first place. He heard Nico's gasp of shock and the sound of the black-haired immortal leaping to his feet. Jason knew that he had to get to a quiet area before the angel caught up to him, and with Nico's heightened abilities, he knew he didn't have much time. He barreled through the crowd, muttering curt and rather pointless 'Excuse me's' as he ran. He heard the death angel right on his tail and could sense the clawing curiosity pulsing of of him in waves. He wanted to know how a mortal knew about his friend. He wanted to know where his friend was and why he was here. If he needed those answers, he'd have to catch Jason first.

"ADAM!" Nico bellowed menacingly. If Jason had told the fallen angel his real name, fear probably would've frozen his feet into place, but luckily that only happened to just about every Adam in the Whisper. Jason kept running, the crowd becoming aware of the chase and beginning to part for him. They wanted to see how this game of cat and mouse ended up. Would they see a good fight, or would it become boring due to the fact that Jason would be able to evade Nico's grasp? The thing was, Jason _wanted _Nico to catch him.

He looked around quickly, searching for a place that would be secluded enough to talk angel, but not too far away to the point that Nico would already be upon him before he got there. He could hear the ragged breathing of the angel as he pursued his blonde-haired prey, and it was pretty nerve-wracking. Jason's eyes rested on a door that had a bright red "Exit" sign hanging over the top. It was teetering on the point of being too far away to reach, but it was worth a shot. Jason used his agility training to aid him as he suddenly shot to the side like an arrow, his arms pumping and his muscles screaming.

He heard the astonished grunt of Nico as his turn went wide, costing him precious time. Jason's head began to throb and his breathing became more and more labored, and he was aware of Nico as the fallen angel easily regained the ground that he had lost. Jason wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer. All he needed to do was get to that door. Time seemed to slow down as Jason leapt for the doorknob, just to find that Nico had grasped the back of his shirt. He managed to wrench the door open, but the fallen angel's grip was as strong as titanium as he yanked Jason back.

The former angel hunter let out a cry of sheer alarm as his hands scrambled for the exit, just to become farther and farther away. He struggled and cursed as Nico dragged him away as if he weighed nothing. The crowd was silent and only the deafening blare of music could be heard. They were all waiting for a fight, and they all expected Jason to be the loser. That was not what Jason had in mind, though, and he resulted in the last option that his training had presented to him: the good old-fashioned groin kick.

Jason squirmed around and brought his knee up, slamming it into the fallen angel's tender areas. The attack was so violent that Jason was pretty sure that Nico would never have kids. The black-haired angel made a manly squeaking sound and collapsed, giving Jason just enough time to wriggle free from his grasp. He bolted, heading straight out of the exit, which was wide open. He knew that angels recovered quickly, and that pretty soon Nico would be up and running, so he simply waited in the alley, hoping that the angel hadn't given up on the chase.

Luckily, Nico was not one to surrender so easily. As soon as he regained feeling in his sensitive areas, he was on his feet and chasing after the blonde-haired boy. He threw the door open and turned to see none other than Jason, leaning against the wall with a bored look on his face.

"Listen, we need to talk." they said at the same time.

There was a bout of awkward silence until Jason spoke up, "You first."

"Okay, _Adam. _I know that's not your real name. You're Jason. I know you're Jason." Nico hissed. "And boy am I gonna-" Jason held up a hand for silence, his demeanor calm, despite the fact that he was freaking out on the inside. Nico knew, and Jason certainly wasn't getting away unscathed now that the angel had found the culprit who sawed off his wings.

"You got me. But, this is serious. I didn't risk getting my ass kicked just for the fun of it. I-" Nico cut Jason off.

"How do you know about Percy!?" he snapped. "Answer me now, you little twerp or I'll rip you're shoulder blades out, just so you get a feel of how it's like to get your wings sawed off."

"I was getting to that." Jason scoffed, but in reality he was desperately trying to hide his trembling hands. This death angel was scary. "I know Perseus, or as he likes me to call him Percy." Nico opened his mouth to put his two cents in, but Jason muted him with a look, "Percy has a problem. A _big _problem, and I'm not just talking about the fact that he has no wings."

"WHAT!?" cue horrified and furious reaction from Nico.

"Sorry, sorry. My fault. Trying to relocate them at this very moment, and I'll relocate yours is you want…_anyway _Percy is in big trouble." Jason told the already fuming death angel.

"What could possibly be worse than you chopping his wings off!? Huh!?" he spat.

"Umm…are you familiar with angel addictions?" Nico's complexion paled even further than it already was at this.

"Of course." his voice was no longer angry, but more worried. "Why?"

"Percy…um…err…"

"Spit it out!"

"Percyisseverelyaddictedtoheroinandrightnowitiscurrentlyintheprocessofkillinghim." Jason said quickly.

"Speak English!" Nico demanded. Jason sighed and gave in.

"Percy is severely addicted to heroin and right now it is currently in the process killing him." he summed up. Nico was quiet for a long, long, time. A few times he opened his mouth as if to speak, and then closed it again.

When he finally found his voice, he said, "And you came to me because…?"

"Well, he told me that you were his closest and most trusted friend. Since you know him better than I do, I hoped that you would, I don't know, be able to help?" Again, silence.

"It's amazing how Percy hasn't forgotten about me. It's been so long…" Nico's voice trailed off sadly.

"When I caught him he had been in the process of looking for you!" Jason blurted and immediately covered his mouth. Nico stared at him in shock, blinking once. Then twice.

"He…he _what_?" the fallen death angel stuttered.

"He was looking for you. After you went missing, well, he dedicated his life to one: finding you. And two: killing the person who hurt you." Jason explained. A ghost of a smile danced on Nico's lips.

"Well since you're here that means that that big oaf wasn't successful." he chuckled.

"Err…no."

"Well what are we waiting for? Take me to him or else I'll throttle you."


	17. Chapter 17

**(A/N) GUYS I AM SO EXCITED; THIS STORY HAS OFFICIALLY BECOME MY MOST POPULAR STORY. SLAP THAT FOLLOW/FAVORITE BUTTON AND LEAVE A REVIEW PLEASE! BY THE WAY, HAPPY NEW YEAR! PREPARE TO WRITE 2014 ON ALL OF YOUR WORKSHEETS AT SCHOOL UNTIL ALMOST THE END OF THE YEAR AND THEN HAVE TO COPE WITH ANOTHER YEAR CHANGE!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!**

Percy was in a mood, and when angels, especially fallen ones, got into "moods" you better stay the hell away. He paced agitatedly back and forth across Jason's room. It occurred to him that the last time he'd paced like this was when he'd attacked Luke and gotten himself into this huge mess, but he stuffed that thought into the back of his mind before it was able to fester. Percy knew that he wasn't technically locked in this room, but he was pretty sure that Jason wanted him to rest rather than wander around the house aimlessly.

He couldn't deny that he was thankful beyond any belief, but it was a blow to his pride; he had to rely on a _human _to rescue him from, well, humans! It was the biggest of insults. Jason was a very kind boy, he had to admit, and he sought penance like no other. God, it was really hard to hate a boy who was so sweet and gentle, unlike some of the other mortals he'd encountered. With a sigh he collapsed back onto his bed, wincing as his wing stumps made it very uncomfortable to lie down flat. He shifted and tossed, but couldn't manage to get comfortable.

Percy knew one thing, though; wings, even wing _stumps_, were a nuisance. Every time he lay down to rest in his room that resided in Archangel Michael's house, it was one thing or another that kept him awake. A feather was tickling his nose. He was too hot or too cold. He got pins and needles in his wings. It was uneven when he slept on his back. His left wing was poking out of the blanket and letting all the cold air in. It was molting season and black feathers were all over the place. It had gotten to the point where Percy had considered hanging from the rafters by his feet and wrapping his wings around him like a bat.

"Jesus Christ." Percy hissed and arched his back, flopping onto his stomach. When he had wings, lying on his stomach would cause a bombardment of fuzzy down, the most useless feathers in the world that would act as insolents if he was a bird (which he most obviously was not), to rain upon him like gunfire. After he'd sneezed roughly twenty times, he'd screw it and begin to toss and turn again. Thankfully he didn't have wings anymore, and so he was able to get comfortable on his stomach. He let out a wide yawn and finally let himself drift off to sleep.

-Ω-

"He might be resting." Jason warned Nico as he closed the door behind him. The fallen death angel flicked on the lights and the living room was illuminated with a golden glow.

"You sure have money." Nico snorted as he examined the sheer size of the living room and the expensive décor. There were plush couches and a geometric rug, complete with a fireplace and a huge Samsung 110-inch Ultra HDTV siting at an angle off to the right. It was rather modern, with dark blue walls and a Baxton Studio coffee table, along with abstract art and statues.

"My sister's salary, mostly. I'm just a waiter." Jason replied and placed the keys on the granite countertop. The fallen death angel arched an eyebrow at this. "Okay, fine. A waiter at a five-star Italian restaurant called the Bengal Rose." Satisfied, Nico turned away from him and stalked off down the corridor that branched off from the living room. Jason hurried after him, struggling to keep up with Nico's long, purposeful strides. His walking was Jason's jogging, and the fact that he was most likely a body builder and had immortal strength and eternal youth probably contributed to that.

"Which room?" Nico asked gruffly, scrutinizing all of the doors that led to bathrooms, guest rooms, master bedrooms, and dens.

"Third one on the right." Jason replied. The fallen death angel walked over to the door Jason had directed him to and, with a deep breath, gently turned the knob. He stepped inside and there, lying on the bed, was Percy. Jason could register a sharp intake of breath from Nico, but Percy was fast asleep among the covers, his breathing gently rustling the black locks that had fallen into his face.

He looked so peaceful and at ease, though Jason knew was lay behind those eyelids; green eyes like shattered glass, the eyes of an old man on a young man's face, sunken and devoid of all hope. He'd seen too much in too little time, and now it was pushing down on him, seeing how much pressure it would take before he shattered altogether. Jason took one look at the pouch on the end table and cursed himself for not purchasing more heroin for the poor angel at the Whisper. But then again, his addiction was the reason why Nico was here.

The fallen death angel approached the bed and knelt beside it, watching Percy sleep soundly for a few moments. With a gentle touch that Jason would have never associated with him, he shook Percy awake. "Perce. Perce?" he whispered softly, his brown eyes full of tender affection. The messenger angel's eyes fluttered open like the beating of a butterfly's wings, his long black lashes casting shadows over his eyes.

"Nico?" he asked in a voice so quiet that Jason could barely hear. He suppose that this was a private, intimate moment and that that was his cue to leave. Just as he turned to walk out he heard Percy murmur, "No, stay." Grudgingly, Jason pulled a chair from the corner of the room, a chair that he had spent many hours sitting in by Percy's bedside, and watched. A faint smile tugged at the angel's lips and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. His movements were so feeble and weak they would've been associated with a person who was taking their final breath.

"The gang's all here." he chuckled lightly and Jason couldn't help but smile. Even Nico was warmed by Percy's humor.

"What has happened, Percy?" the fallen death angel asked. At this the smile faded from the messenger angel's face and was replaced by a pained expression.

"I'm sorry. I am a fool, a fool for ever thinking that this drug could help me. Now it is only killing me. I injected it once and now it had become a part of me; part of me that would cause the other parts to wither and die like a sickly animal if it ever disappeared." he sighed, his voice sounding rather defeated. Jason immediately felt defensive; it wasn't his fault that he had used the drug during a time of extreme stress and agony for him. But then again, that's how almost all drug addicts were created. "Please. Don't make the same mistake I did."

"Stop talking as if you are already gone!" Nico demanded, rising to his feet. His expression was stern, all of his features pinched in frustration.

"I cannot die." Percy replied. "But I will go into the Eternal Healing Slumber." At this, Nico's expression became uneasy.

"Nonsense! That is but a myth; a child's tale to discourage young angels from joking around with drugs." he hissed.

"What do you mean by 'Eternal Healing Slumber'?" Jason questioned, his tone anxious.

"It's just a-" Percy cut his friend off.

"In the Book of Enoch, _our _Book of Enoch, not yours, it is mentioned that angels have a very…weak immunity to certain mortal drugs." the messenger angel explained, struggling to sit upright. Nico assisted him in propping him up against the headboard, a bunch of pillows pooling behind his back to support him. Percy continued, "Legend has it that once your body shuts down, which would be when a normal mortal dies from the drug, you do go into the Healing Slumber…only that from this slumber you do not wake up."

"As I said, it's just a child's tale. Only Archangels are permitted to examine the pages of the Book of Enoch, and I doubt they would keep this information from us if it had been true." Nico snorted, but his voice still wavered.

"I was a messenger for Archangel Michael-"

"What?!" Jason cried, his voice an octave higher than usual. He clamped his hand over his mouth as the two fallen angels turned to stare at him, looks of amusement written all over their faces. The overwhelming fear and astonishment washed over Jason like a wave. He had chopped off the wings of a messenger for Archangel Michael? He'd thought Archangel Gabriel was Michael's messenger, but then again he was just a mortal; he was still only grazing the surface of what the divine lived like, even if Percy had taken him into his subconscious memories.

"Y-y-you…you…God. I can't even…good Lord." the moral muttered and paced back and forth, running his hand through his hair. He stopped and turned to the snickering companions almost robotically. "So let me get this straight. _You _were a _messenger _for _Archangel Michael?!_ The right-hand man of the Creator? The guy who holds the keys to Heaven and Hell and cast Satan himself down into the Ninth Circle?"

"That's the one." Percy chuckled, bemused at the mortal's flabbergasted expression.

"Should I be, I don't know, groveling or something?"

"That would be nice," the messenger angel remarked.

"And hysterical to watch." Nico added and they both shared a laugh. Jason felt a twinge of jealousy; he'd never had friends that close, even when he was with the Golden Swords. Their laugh was the laugh of old friends that had been in touch for many years; they knew each other's secrets and could read each other's expressions like a book. Jason didn't think he'd ever find a companion like that.

"Haha very funny." he managed. "I think we should get down to business, wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course!" Nico said quickly, gathering himself. "I think I may have a solution, but it's not fool-proof." Percy and Jason's heads snapped towards him in unison, as if they were two automatons being controlled by the same remote. The fallen death angel shifted uncomfortably from his seat on the floor, but managed to maintain his poker-face. "Well there's this healing angel. She's been fallen for many, many years and has taken up a job in a hospital that, surprisingly, is nearby. She fell on purpose; she did something, I don't know what, so she'd get caught and cast out of Heaven. I don't know what she did, but that's not the point; she didn't like her Calling as a Healing angel. She thought she would be better as an angel of art and beauty, and you can't change your Calling.

"There are some who fit perfectly into their Calling, for instance I'm a death angel to the core just like how Percy is a messenger angel at heart, but others don't seem content. They envy, which is one of the seven deadly sins, mind you, other angels' jobs; healing angels' whole lives are dedicated to giving and not getting anything in return, and some aren't fond with that. You can't switch, because that's against our laws.

"So she fell on purpose and now resides here in one of the hospitals as one of the head nurses. Even though she doesn't like it, it's what she does best." Nico told us.

"So what can she do?" Percy asked, his voice containing a spark of hope.

"As a healing angel, she can cure just about anything. Maybe she can deal with your addiction, Perce." Nico replied.

"So who is this healing angel? What is her name?" Jason questioned, optimism pumping thorough his veins and carrying throughout his body. He was confident that this wrong would be set right again, and with this healing angel he could get Percy back on his feet again. Nico turned to Jason, his brown, almost black eyes glittering in the light of the dying sun, which filtered through the windows.

"Piper. Her fake mortal surname being McLean. She is Piper, Piper McLean."


	18. Chapter 18

**(A/N) Guys I am so sorry for not updating sooner! Please forgive me!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, but I do own the plot!**

"Is this going to be painful?" Percy asked nervously as Nico and Jason stepped out of the car. He was terrified of the doctor, a fear that he had had since he was young. Even in Heaven he feared that the healing angels would stick him with needles to make him "feel better." Percy smiled wryly at the thought; there were needles that could heal and needles that could tear your life to pieces.

After a hardcore rock, paper, scissors tournament, Jason had won the privilege of driving while Nico sat shotgun. Percy was almost glad that he hadn't been able to sit in the front; he was feeling like crap. His muscles were weak and his head was throbbing. His stomach was doing flip-flops, roaring for more heroin, but he had taken his last dose when they had left. His mind was muddled and his heartbeat was dragging along, along with his horrifyingly labored breathing. He was barely able to step out of the car before stumbling, and Jason moved as swift as a cat to catch him before he smacked his head against the concrete.

"Thanks." the fallen messenger angel managed, his mouth dry. Nico's face was pinched with worry and he was pacing like a caged tiger.

"C'mon, c'mon." he muttered impatiently as Jason hauled Percy to his feet. The hospital loomed in front of them, its clean windows and white paint emphasizing its sterility. Piper McLean was supposed to be working there at the moment, and her shift would end soon. When she walked out, the three had planned to take her off to the side to speak with her, but with the side-effects that were clearly being put into motion against Percy's wilting form, they had no idea how much time he had left.

"I think I might be sick." Percy groaned, clutching his stomach.

"Well, be sick in the bushes and not on me!" Jason hissed and hustled his friend to the nearest bush, where the fallen messenger angel unceremoniously threw up violently, his sides heaving. The vomit burned Percy's throat and mouth, and he was pretty sure that regurgitating wasn't supposed to hurt that badly. Luckily, there was no one around as a witness, but people sure would be questioning the horrible smell that was rising from the shrubbery. Nico was standing off to the side from the automatic doors, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited in suspense for Piper McLean to emerge.

Percy had not known Piper very well when she was a healing angel, since she usually hung around with her siblings Lucy and Mitchell. Together the three of them were healers, since it was in the family name of McLean; they were distantly related to Archangel Raphael, the first angel of healing. The siblings was so tightly knit that not even Piper's falling could keep them apart; as healing angels, they sometimes had to descend to Earth to gather roots and herbs. During that time, Lucy and Mitchell would pay Piper short visits, with a curt exchange of news and catching up with each other before the angels were off again; if they were caught, they'd join Piper on the ground.

"It's the addiction." Percy said shakily, a bout of dry-heaving wracking his body. "It's punishing me for not injecting another dose."

_You need the drug. _

_Right here. _

_Right now. _

_More. _

_More! _

_MORE! _ the addiction bellowed, clawing at Percy, the weak host that it had resided in.

_I don't have any! Leave me alone! _Percy cried out desperately into the darkness, but it just kept advancing.

_THEN GET MORE!_ It screeched. The fallen angel felt tears drip down his face as the pain grew worse and worse. His muscles screamed, though he had not been running. Hot spikes of agony impaled themselves into his head, a dry desert wind scorching his throat and mouth. His vision tilted and blurred, the addiction chanting for his demise since he had not fed it, and he crumbled to his knees, his heart working overtime to pump oxygenated blood, that was devoid of drug, to his brain. His sides heaved as he gasped for air, and he was aware of the muted shouts of his companions, along with a not-so-familiar voice. He felt hands shaking him, and he knew his eyes were open, but all he saw was darkness. Darkness and fear and pain. He struggled to fight back the blackness that was pulling at his feet, but it was too strong. He collapsed onto his side and let the unconsciousness overtake him.

-Ω-

Percy's eyes fluttered open, his ashes casting shadows over the dark shades under his eyes. He tried to rise, searching for Nico and Jason, but a gentle yet firm hand settled his head back onto the pillow. The hand stroked his hair and massaged his aching shoulders and neck, causing him to let out a sigh. Percy let his eyes close once more. He was vaguely aware of the comfy mattress and white sheets that were housing him, and they smelled of…nothing really. They were clean as could be and still damp from the washing machine, just how he liked it. He yawned, making a sound between a whimper and a puppy's squeak. He swore he heard an "Aww" from somewhere off to his right.

He rested like that for a few moments, the hand that had been playing with his hair was now gripping his, stroking the soft skin above his knuckles gently with its thumb. But the curiosity won out over the will to relax, and reluctantly he opened his eyes once more. He was greeted by the faces of Nico and Jason, who both looked equally bedraggled and concerned, along with an unfamiliar face. She was rather beautiful, with choppy brown hair and eyes like a kaleidoscope that kept changing colors and shades. This must have been Piper.

Percy caught Jason staring at her, a lovesick look on his face, and he chuckled a little, which turned into a wince as the small laugh made his sides hurt. "Interesting." was all Piper said, as if Percy was some sort of science experiment she was regarding.

"How long was I out?" he managed to croak and then was forced to close his eyes for a count of twenty, due to the fact that it sapped all of his energy just to utter five words.

"A few hours." Jason sighed, releasing Percy's hand to run his fingers through his matted blonde hair. The fallen angel managed to glance out of the window, and sure enough the sky was a deep indigo, unlike the darkening baby blue it had been when they'd arrived. Everyone's face was etched with deep lines of worry, even Piper's.

"I had to give you quite a bit of morphine to stop the pain. Even then you were whimpering in your sleep." she whispered forlornly. "The morphine will have a few…unpleasant side-effects, but as a fallen angel you shouldn't have to worry about addiction; for that to occur I would've had used way more."

"And the addiction? Am I cured?" Percy asked, even though he knew it was pointless to do so; he could still feel the wrenching pull in his gut as his body demanded it, but the pain was far more muted than it had been before. Piper took a deep breath and closed her eyes, like a doctor about to deliver news to a patient that they had cancer.

"The only way to get you off your heroin addiction is to get you addicted to something else; even then you are at risk of being addicted to two drugs at once." she whispered so softly Percy had to strain to hear. Even then, it was as if she had shouted. The realization slammed into him like a wave, shattering his hope into tiny pieces and then stamping on the remains.

"So there's no cure?" he asked, his last shred of hope disappearing like a far off memory. Piper did not reply, nor did she meet Percy's wide green eyes, which were brimming with tears.

"It's impossible. There is only one cure to everything, and that's if you cross the border between Heaven and Earth; people who had died of cancer would automatically be healed and people with schizophrenia will be able to separate the real from the fake. You'd need you're wings, though-"Piper was cut off as Jason leapt to his feet, a brooding expression on his face. Percy knew that expression; it was the expression of a man who had a plan. It may have been a crazy and nearly impossible plan, but it was better than doing nothing.

"I sold his wings." Jason managed to gasp in between shuddering breaths, though his blue eyes were sparkling like diamonds. "I sold it to a fallen angel; I saw her wing scars. I didn't know her name, but her hair was chestnut-colored and she was wearing black lipstick. Her eyes were black like Nico's, only more…sinister. Do you know who she is?" he asked, looking desperately from Nico to Piper to Percy. Percy didn't have a clue of who Jason was talking about, but he automatically hated her for buying his wings. She could be kind for all he knew, but that was no excuse to buy the severed wings of her own kind. It was as sick as cannibalism.

Piper didn't seem to know the client either, but Nico had paled to an even milkier white than before. "You sold Percy's wings to _Drusilla_!?" he squeaked, which sounded slightly amusing due to the fact that it was coming from a man as buff as Nico.

"Why? What's so special about her?" Jason asked, his voice brimming with excitement. Percy could tell that he was ecstatic to have a lead on who had purchased his black wings.

"Oh nothing she's only _THE FORMER WIFE OF SATAN HIMSELF." _


	19. Chapter 19

**(A/N) Long update. I know. Guilty. Blah blah blah. **

**Disclaimer: I think you know by now**

"I don't want their help!" Percy cried, trembling all over. He hugged his knees against his chest and hid his face behind them. Jason, Nico, and Piper were attempting to reason with him, but he had a severe chip on his shoulder when it came to the Golden swords. He didn't blame the fallen angel, though; they were an organization that hacked off angels' wings, sold them, and got him addicted to heroin (technically that was only Luke's fault, but Percy didn't seem to think that.)

"But Annabeth is there! Annabeth is good, right?" Jason pleaded. He had gone from firmly demanding that he cooperate to begging in mere moments. But at least the topic of Annabeth had gotten him interested; his trembling stopped and a green eye peeked out from behind his knees, which acted like a barrier between him and everyone else, a sort-of "I can't see them so they can't see me" strategy.

"Annabeth?" he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. Distantly he added, "She was nice."

"That's my point! We can get Annabeth, Dakota, Gwen, and Will-" Nico cut Jason off.

"Wait a minute. Who?"

Jason made a growling sound in his throat and said it mockingly slowly, "Annabeth Chase…Dakota…Gwen…Will Solace."

"WILL SOLACE IS AN ANGEL HUNTER!?" Nico yelled, his eyes full of disbelief. "I'm _dating _that guy!" He ran his hand through his hair, the look on his face clearly stating: _I have made a terrible mistake. _There was silence for a few moments as everyone stared at the fallen death angel, who was shifting his weight from foot to foot, muttering apologies. Nobody criticized him or mocked him, though. That's when Jason realized just how insecure Nico was; it must've been torture being bundled up in the closet.

Finally Jason spoke up once more, "No wonder why you were rejecting those gorgeously hot and curvy women back at the Whisper. Damn, I'd thought you were out of your mind." A roar of laughter followed, but Percy's chuckling was masked by a fit of violent wheezing. Everyone rushed over as his body trembled by the sheer ferocity of the coughing. Percy's hand flew to his mouth and came back red, causing everyone else to inhale sharply. Piper took out a cotton swab and cleaned Percy's mouth of all the blood, and Jason wiped off his hand, clasping it between his own. It lay pale and cool against his palms.

"I'll work with them." Percy finally managed, the agony that he had to go through to say the words evident on his face, but was hushed into silence by Piper, who slipped an oxygen mask over his face. He took several deep breaths and his eyes fluttered closed.

"Drugs?" Jason asked quietly as he watched the fallen angel's labored breathing.

"I didn't want to see him in pain like that." Piper replied softly, casting a pitying glace over at Percy's limp and lifeless-looking form.

"We can't go to the Golden Swords without him." Nico pointed out, wringing his hands in his lap.

"Yes, we can. All we have to do is bring them here, minus Luke of course. Piper can stay here with Percy," he turned to the gorgeous fallen healing angel, "if that's okay with you, of course." Piper nodded gravely and watched as Percy's heartbeat was shown on the monitor. _Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. _It was horribly slow, and it made Jason all the more desire to help him. Nico nodded in agreement with the plan, even though it was not much, and left.

Jason turned to follow him, but was halted when Piper said, "Wait." He turned to see Piper furiously scrawling onto a slip of paper. She handed it to him. "When this whole dilemma is over, call me. We should hang out." She kissed his cheek lightly, and they were both aware of how deeply they were both blushing. "I think you're cute." Jason grinned and dashed out, tucking Piper's number into his pocket and calling for Nico to wait up.

-Ω-

"_This _is the Golden Swords' headquarters?" Nico asked incredulously, regarding the broken windows and crumbling bricks of the long-since abandoned apartment building.

"No, it's more…_under _the building." Jason replied curtly. He swore he saw a flicker of movement in one of the windows, but he singled it out as just a trick of the dim light cast by the street lamps. A crumpled newspaper skidded and cartwheeled by, making scraping sounds against the pavement, and the new moon hung darkly in the sky, with grey clouds concealing it from time to time. He squared his shoulders and waked into the alley, hoisting himself on top of the dumpster. He raised his hand, ready to perform the special knock for entry, but stopped.

"What are you waiting for?" Nico asked indignantly.

"It's just…last time I was here I found Percy with a needle in hand and a pouch of heroin by his side. Who knows what I'll find now?" he replied quietly, his gaze distant. Nico didn't object to this and waited patiently on the ground and Jason's hand, trembling violently, knocked five times.

"Isn't that the knock that Ana does in Frozen during the song 'Do You Wanna Build a Snowman'?" Nico scoffed, concealing his smile behind his hand.

"So what if it is?" Jason grumbled, but stopped when the window unlatched and was thrown open. He was met by the blonde-haired blue-eyed newbie. He'd been hoping for Gwen or Annabeth, since they'd be calmer about the muscular, handsome, Goth-reject fallen angel standing behind him, but he guessed that Will was even better due to the fact that Nico was his boyfriend.

"Oh hey-wait, _Nico_?" Will spluttered, rendered speechless by the odd combination of acquaintances. His head moved back and forth rapidly, looking from Jason to Nico and back again. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You never told me you were an angel hunter." Nico growled, but the fury in his voice sounded rather halfhearted. He launched himself onto the dumpster with inhuman grace so that he was eye-level with his boyfriend. Will gulped and began to close the window, but Nico grabbed it from the other side and threw it open, breaking the lock in the process. "You wouldn't lock me out, would you?" he asked, giving him puppy dog eyes. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy, who, by the way, Jason thought was inferior to his blonde-haired-blue-eyed-ness, sighed and stepped away from the opening, allowing Nico and Jason to wriggle through.

Will regarded Jason with a frown. "You just _had _to bring him here and tell him, didn't you?" he hissed, which was very un-Will-like. The former angel hunter snorted, causing his nostrils to flare slightly.

"Well he hasn't broken up with you _and_, due to the fact that he's a fallen angel, that's a major trust factor to your relationship. Congrats, you just reached Level 2 on the relationship scale. Go change your Facebook status or something." He smirked as Will's mouth dropped open and he exchanged an amused glace with Nico.

"You're-" he began.

"Yeah." Nico replied with a shrug, his face flaming. Composing himself, Will cracked a smile.

"Nevertheless, you're still cute." the angel hunter replied with a flirtatious wink.

"Get a room, guys. I could go talk to Annabeth while you two do the nasty if you want." That comment did the trick, for the two lovers, who were closing the space between them, immediately flew apart.

"Why do you need Annabeth?" Will asked. "And why the hell did you steal Percy?"

"Steal?" Jason scoffed. "Bitch, that was a rescue."

"That's fair." Will said with a shrug. "But why do you need to see Annabeth?"

"Err…we have a problem." Nico said slowly. His boyfriend paled a bit at that.

"What kind of problem?" he questioned carefully, as if he really didn't want to know the answer, but was asking due to the fact that it would be the option that was more socially acceptable. Jason didn't blame him for being so hesitant.

"A-fallen-messenger-angel-who-is-addicted-to-heroin-is-dying-and-the-only-way-to-heal-him-is-to-get-him-back-to-Heaven-but-his-wings-have-been-bought-by-a-psychopathic-wife-of-Satan sort of problem." Will didn't ask any more questions after that. Silently, he gestured for the two to follow him down the familiar stairs. Jason was used to this certain pathway, but Nico was looking around in disgust at the utter wreck of the place. The peeling paint, the creepy crawlies, and the cracks in the walls weren't sights to behold.

We emerged into the meeting room and Nico ground his teeth together when he saw the huge white wings that were in the case. "When did you get those?" he asked curtly.

"About ten years ago, as Annabeth and the others tell me." Will replied nervously. "Why?"

"Those are Travis' wings." he muttered, mostly to himself, his eyes distant. Jason gave him a pitying look, but ushered him along as the group made emerged into the main hall, where all of the other rooms branched off of. I thanked and dismissed Will, but he insisted on staying with his boyfriend and, with the stubborn gleam in his eyes, Jason didn't bother forcing him out. Will held Nico's hand and the look of the two of them together, surprisingly Will was the taller one despite the fact that Nico was, in fact, a fallen angel, warmed Jason's heart. He shipped it. He shipped it hard, and because of that his To Do list was growing insanely long.

Nico, Will, and Jason walked in silence, sort of like a funeral procession. Nobody else greeted them on their way to Annabeth's room, and Jason was beginning to become worried. This hush was very unusual; he didn't hear Leo trying to use percussive maintenance to get one of his inventions to work, he didn't hear Dakota yelling drunkenly at the flat screen in his room, he didn't hear Gwen muttering to herself in order to organize all of the wings in the trophy room, and he didn't pick up the slightest sound of either Reyna, Luke, or Annabeth chopping down dummies in the training room. There was only silence. The headquarters seemed foreboding and not at all like the home that Jason had viewed it as only weeks earlier.

"Her room is here." Jason told the two boys, having no idea why he was whispering. Will gave Nico a small peck on the cheek and ran off to his room, his footsteps echoing throughout the hall like gunshots. Nico regained his composure and nodded to Jason, who raised his hand and knocked on the door of Annabeth's room. For a horrifying moment there was no reply. They waited one second. Two seconds. Three. It took exactly twenty seconds for Annabeth to open the door. Her serious grey eye poked out from the crack between the door and the wall.

When she realized Jason was there, she sighed and opened the door. Then she saw Nico and her mouth dropped open. "Hey!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "I know you!"

"Yeah. Fallen angel. Got wings sawed off by you guys." Nico replied, his voice strained. Annabeth looked speechless, but she wiped away all of her emotion and invited them inside. She was wearing a plain orange T-shirt wih the words 'Camp Half-Blood' written across them in faded black writing and her usual jeans and sneakers. Her sword hung at her side, along with her holster and her assortment of daggers that slapped against her thighs as she walked.

"Where'd you get that?" Jason asked, gesturing to the shirt. She looked down at it and blushed furiously. Oh, it was just an old camp I went to when I was younger. You learned about Greek stuff and things like that.

"Oh. Okay." Jason replied awkwardly, and quickly covered it up by saying, "We have a problem."

"Us as well." Annabeth replied, visibly grateful to get down to business. "Percy is missing, and I assume you…err…rescued him during your last stay. Everyone was panicking when they saw that neither you nor Percy was there when we came to check up on you guys."

"Correct, but we have a dilemma that is, no offense, greater than yours-" Annabeth cut him off.

"Where's Luke?" she asked, looking over his and Nico's shoulders as if there were a third person behind them.

"What do you mean?" Jason replied, clearly confused.

"Luke, he didn't come to you?" Annabeth was beginning to sound very panicked, and she started to pace back and forth across the length of the room like a caged tiger.

"No. Was he supposed to?"

"Yes! He set out to your house to find you and Percy, just to make sure that he didn't capture you or anything."

"Percy capturing _me?_" Jason scoffed. "Annabeth, you should've seen how frail and weak he was when I carried him, dying slowly from the heroin that Luke had given him, into my house." Annabeth ceased her pacing and turned chalk white.

"What?" he voice was wavering. So she really did care about the fallen messenger angel after all.

"Right now he's in the hospital with one of Nico's friends, Piper, and he's teetering on the edge of having to go on life support." Jason replied icily, though he immediately softened his tone afterwards, "but he was asking for you…in his sleep."

"Oh Percy." she whispered, her eyes becoming glassy, but she blinked the tears away and composed herself. "So what do you need us for?" she asked, her voice now filled with a hard determination. "We are willing to help in any way, shape, or form."

"The only way to save Percy is to get him over the border between Heaven and Earth, since that border heals everything." Jason explained urgently.

"But he needs his-" Nico cut her off.

"We know he needs his wings." the fallen death angel said darkly, his dark brown eyes glinting with a resolute light. "And we've tracked the person, more like _thing_, who bought them."

"And who would that be?" Annabeth questioned, crossing her arms. Nico took a deep breath.

"Drusilla, the wife of Satan himself. Now and then demons escape from Hell purely by luck, and they roam around the Earth until an angel patrol finds and kills them. But this is Drusilla we're talking about; she can make herself look like a human, and she can even _turn herself into _a human altogether. As a human she would completely be skipped over on the patrols' radars." he explained.

"That's why we need your help to get the wings back, for Percy's sake." Jason finished.

"But I thought Percy was immortal." Annabeth exclaimed. Her complexion had paled all throughout Nico's story, and her hands were clenching and unclenching at her sides.

"He can go into the Eternal Healing Slumber. It may supposedly be a myth, but even if it is Percy would only be suffering at the hands of the drug for the rest of his immortal life." Jason replied gravely. Annabeth's expression hardened.

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's go kick Satan's wife's ass."

-Ω-

**(A/N) This is just a little extra that I thought you'd guys would like. **

**Jason Grace's To Do List:**

**_Step One:_**_Find Annabeth_

**_Step Two:_**_Get her and the other members of the Golden Swords (Besides Luke) to help them get Percy's wings back_

**_Step Three: _**_March into Drusilla's super-secret evil hideout/laboratory all badass-like and take back the wings._

**_Step Four: _**_Sew Percy's wings back on_

**_Step Five: _**_Announce "Release the Kraken!" and throw Percy off of a tall building like a couple releasing doves at a wedding. And watch him fly majestically into the horizon like the cheezy end of a movie. _

**Step 6: **_Call Piper and date her_

**Step 7: **_Make Jasper and Solangelo T-shirts_


	20. Chapter 20

**(A/N) Hello everyone! I am in a particularly good mood due to the fact that I did well on an Advanced Math test that I'd thought I failed. So, without further ado, I present to you a chapter whose plot I just thought of as I'm writing this.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, just the plot and the OC (Drusilla)**

The Golden Swords gathered in front of Jason's house, which contrasted with the inky black, cloudy sky that stretched behind it. The windows were dark, the curtains drawn, and there wasn't a car in the driveway. Annabeth shuddered against the cold and glanced at the slip of paper Jason had handed her. This was definitely 132 Olympus Lane, just as Jason had wrote. If that was the case, why did it look vacant? She turned and gazed back at her companions, who looked just as anxious as she felt. They were all probably thinking the same thing as her; was this a trap of some sort? Jason had, indeed, err..."switched" to the angels' side so to speak. Would he seek revenge for the way that the Golden Swords had treated Percy?

Then again, the desperation in his and Nico's voice as they told them of their problem sounded genuine. Either that or they were expert actors, and from experience Annabeth had learned that Jason was not a very good liar. But Nico was a fallen angel that she barely even knew, an angel that the Golden Swords had personally mutilated and stolen what he could never replace. Was he taking advantage of Jason's anger and manipulating him? Then again, he was Will's boyfriend (not that Annabeth ha a problem with that), and Will had promised that they could trust Nico completely.

Annabeth shrugged the thought off as if it were raindrops on her coat. With a swift hand motion she gestured for the others to follow, marching confidently down the path that led to the door. Will and Leo exchanged an uneasy glance that Annabeth pretended not to notice, but they reluctantly followed anyway. Gwen and Dakota were trailing behind, scanning every shadow warily as if demons lurked with in them, their weapons drawn and gripped tightly in their hands. The blonde-haired girl walked up the steps and onto the stoop, where she stood for a few moments just staring at the polished wood of the door. She stood at a crossroads; she could ring the doorbell and join Nico, Percy, and Jason on a nearly impossible quest that endangered the lives of both her and her friends, but save Percy, or she could call it all off, herd her companions back to the truck they arrived in and drive away, staying safe but at the same time signing Percy's obituary.

All Annabeth had to do was picture his face, which was beautiful even when covered in blood, and his eyes, which held so much pain and suffering they looked shattered glass, yet so full of love and trust, and her heart melted into pieces. She knew that even the thought of loving him was ridiculous; he was a fallen angel, she was an angel hunter who had taken part in the severing of his friend's wings. Yet she couldn't stifle that little voice from her heart, whispering to her: _Just maybe. It could happen. _But her brain knew that her heart was an idiot; if Percy wanted to become an angel again, dating certainly wasn't on his ridiculously crowded agenda.

That's when she realized how long she had been standing on the stoop, just staring at nothing. Will cleared his throat impatiently, snapping her out of her musings. She gave them a sheepish smile and raised her hand to knock, but paused. Her anxiety was just getting the best of her and she quickly dismissed the feeling as quickly as it had come. She knocked once. Twice. Three times. No answer. The group waited in an anxious silence as nothing seemed to happen. The house remained dormant.

"Let's go." Dakota snarled, taking a swig from a Heineken bottle that he'd brought along. "They obviously just wanted to trick us-" The door opened and Jason poked his head out, his blue eyes shining like shards of ice. With a nod he invited them wordlessly inside, and Annabeth knew they had no time to marvel at the lavish décor. Even so, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy.

She lived with her mother, her father, and her two brothers. Well, stepmother and stepbrothers. Her father was too caught up in his twenty-four-seven work schedule to pay any attention to her, and the pay was horrendous despite the hours. He was oblivious to the obvious abuse that was going on in their home; the bruises on the arms and faces of her stepbrothers, who were thinner than they used to be, and the hardened gaze of her stepmother, whose gaze crossed and uncrossed due to all of the alcohol she consumed. When she visited, the house was always a terrifying mess. The garbage can was overflowing. There was a fine layer of dirt and grime covering the floor and furniture. Her stepbrothers' broken toys, which hadn't been broken by them but by their mother, littering the ground like broken dreams. The awful smell that came from the shoddy bathroom. The stains on the floor that just wouldn't come out.

Worst of all, Annabeth would always find her stepbrothers cowering in their room, hugging one another and trembling all over, their ratty close too tight, even for their small and frail frames. Annabeth would always take it upon herself to clean up, even if her mom was a dreadful alcoholic and would trash the place sooner or later. The house would stay clean for the duration of her visit, and then when she left and came back it would be the same as it had been before. She wanted her stepbrothers to come with her, but she knew that they were too young to handle the reality.

They were too young to even begin their training and she doubted she'd be viewed as a hero when they learned about just how she earned the money that put the food on the table. All of her money, every single penny, was spent on her family, and her mother just kept spending and spending money that they did not have. The bills would come back higher every year, and her father was cracking under the strain. Unlike Jason, Annabeth knew that she'd never be able to retire from angel hunting if it meant her family would starve in the slums.

"Earth to Annabeth?" Leo's insistent voice snapped her out of yet another bout of reveries.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." she mumbled and waved him off. She and the rest of the Golden Swords followed Jason as he crept down the hallway, which was dark. He was treading lightly, and Annabeth supposed she should be doing the same. Her feet didn't make a sound as they touched the floorboards, which would've been creaking exceptionally if she hadn't been specially trained. Her companions trailed behind like lonesome shadows, their footsteps silent as well. Even Dakota, who was exceedingly intoxicated, wasn't walking like he had elephant feet. In fact, he was the quietest of them all.

Windows cast squares of white-grey moonlight, which was shining through the clouds, on the ground, illuminating the forms of the teenagers who slunk past. The paintings that hung on the wall just seemed like smudges and blurs of dark colors, the scenes they depicted obscured in the dappled light. Someone hit into something and a string of curses ripped through the silence, the silence like the one that seemed to linger after a dying scream.

"He's in here." Jason whispered, his eyes shining in the dim light.

"Why are we whispering?" Gwen asked and Jason shot her a halfhearted dirty look.

"Percy's asleep." he replied.

"We came all this way-" Annabeth hushed the rudely drunken Dakota with a glare.

"He needs rest." she told him in her best I'm-very-angry-at-you-but-we-need-to-talk-quiet whisper. Jason gave her a grateful look and she returned it with a nod of acknowledgement. The blonde-haired boy carefully twisted the doorknob and let the door swing open silently, not even the slightest creak coming from the hinges. He gestured for everyone to follow and they all walked inside, careful to keep their movements subtle and quiet. Annabeth realized immediately that this room was occupied, for a large candle was flickering in the corner, illuminating the room wut. Her footsteps became even more muted as her shoes connected with carpet instead of wood, and she just couldn't help but be wrapped in a cozy feel, like sitting on the chair wrapped in blankets on a stormy night.

There were three figures waiting for them, shadows dancing across their faces in the candlelight. Nico, his piercing, dark brown eyes glittering like coals, was stooped down next to the bed where Percy lay. He clutched his friend's hand protectively and scanned everyone's face as if they were enemies, like a panther crouched and ready to leap. The fallen death angel was pale, and his black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. If he hadn't looked as if he were prepared to strike at any given moment, she would've thought he was beautiful. Then again, his beauty was cold and hard, like the beauty a stone statue would have. She shifted her gaze from Nico to Percy and almost immediately regretted it.

Annabeth wanted to avert her eyes, but the fallen messenger angel was watching her intently, his green irises brimming with tender affection. His eyes were the only things that suggested that he was not dead, for he looked sickly, his skin bleached of color and his cheekbones jutting from his face. He raised his head weakly and smiled, though she could tell it hurt to do so. Percy tried to sit up, his eyes full of joy, but Nico gently guided his head back down on the pillow. He let out a pitifully quiet squeak of protest, but nothing more. The heroin was doing this to him. It was destroying him from the inside-out.

The last figure wasn't anyone Annabeth recognized. Her eyes shifted colors every time the blonde-haired girl blinked, and it was rather mesmerized by it. Blue. Green. Hazel. Gold. Brown. The young woman looked to be in her early twenties…very early twenties. She was wearing doctor's scrubs, yet she looked about Annabeth's age, maybe even younger, and Annabeth would've only been enrolling in her first year of college by now. This girl was nowhere near being a graduate, yet she had the name tag and everything. Her skin was the color of caramel and her hair was held back in a choppy braid, with strands poking out this way and that. But another glance into her eyes and Annabeth saw a millennia of knowledge sealed within them, like the eyes of an old woman in the face of a young one. _Fallen angel?_ Annabeth thought, but she knew it would be rude to ask.

Pretty soon all of them were gathered in the dim light of the candle's flame, which danced and swirled like a ballerina. Everyone's face was a grim mask, and nobody seemed to want to make the first move. Finally, Annabeth mustered up enough courage to speak, "We're ready. Anything this Drusilla women has to throw at us, we're ready for it." Her voice didn't sound as confident as she'd thought, and the words seemed hollow and empty, meaningless.

"Drusilla is powerful, much more powerful than any of us. If we want something that she has, we're going to have to go through Hell and back, sometimes quite literally." Nico replied, running his free hand through his hair. His other hand, which had been clasped in Percy's was now being held by Will. It was an odd match, Will and Nico; the dark fallen death angel with the sunny blonde angel hunter. But something about it just felt…right. The tender affection in their eyes as they looked at each other could not be topped by even the love that old couples shared. But the sad part was that Will would age. Nico would not. She could just imagine a young black-haired man with tears in his eyes as he held the hand of a much older man that could've been his grandfather. The man, though, pressed his lips against the elder's and watched in utter sorrow in pain as the line on the heart monitor went flat.

She quickly shook the depressing thought out of her head and concentrated on what Jason was saying, "…the Whisper. Annabeth are you listening?" She opened her mouth to object, but then she decided that she was just too tired to lie. She shook her head. Jason pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, but backtracked to the beginning of his exclamation, "We can't have Percy coming with us, he's too weak," Annabeth immediately turned to Percy to see what he would say to that, but the fallen messenger angel was fast asleep amid a tumble of sheets, covers, and comforters, "so Piper here is going to stay and take care of him." The girl from earlier gave a small wave and Annabeth returned it with a nod of acknowledgement. "The seven of us will go to Drusilla, and Nico knows her location; the warehouse just beside to the Whisper."

"But what if she's expecting us?" Will asked, his eyes round and frightened. Nico gave his hand a reassuring squeeze that, at least from her angle, she could not see if it was returned.

"She won't lay a finger on you." the black-haired fallen angel growled, but immediately corrected himself, "Or anyone else."

"How do we know that she even has the wings?" Leo scoffed and crossed is arms, his tone skeptical.

"She bought them off of me for six million dollars. She wouldn't just do it to throw them away." Jason replied, his blue eyes shining with incitement. "But I don't think she'd want them just for decoration, though."

"Listen, I saw online that a canvas painted blue with a white line was sold for 4.3 million dollars. Anything is possible." Dakota snorted. "She may just be a sick, sick body part collector."

"And _you're _sick, sick body part providers." Nico snapped. "Shut up he's talking." Dakota, shocked that he was receiving that much sass from a fallen angel, had nothing more to say. Jason gave Nico a dirty look and the black-haired immortal only shrugged innocently.

He continued, "Percy's wings were the most powerful wings we'd ever sold, and the only black ones that that. They were the largest and the strongest, so that's probably the reason why she's never bought any of our other wings before. She'd planning something, but I'm not sure what."

"She could sew them onto her back to get back to Heaven." Annabeth suggested. Nico shook his head.

"All angel have wing stumps. That can never be removed. Trust me, on a sleepless night I attempted to have one of my fallen angel comrades cut it off with a chainsaw. It didn't go very well." he shivered. "But anyhow, wing stumps are like puzzle pieces; only certain pieces will connect with one another. The only wings that Drusilla could sew on and have them actually become a functioning part of her body would be her wings, and she had them removed by the Archangels long ago. The Archangels burn the wings so they can never rise to Heaven again,"

"That's what happened to my wings." Piper added.

"So with that being the case, only the artificially fallen, the ones who have had their wings severed by something or someone other than an Archangel, have a chance to rise into Heaven again. So unless Drusilla burned them, which Jason said is probably not the case, we can get Percy's wings and sew them back on. It's going to require some heavy knuckle grease, but I think we can do it." Nico finished. Everyone, even Dakota and Leo, was nodding in agreement.

Percy had woken up sometime in between and was now staring at her, his eyes bright but tired. She offered him a smile and he flushed as red as a tomato, looking away sheepishly. Annabeth chuckled a little on the inside; girls were usually depicted as the nervous and antsy ones, while the guys were confident and super gung-ho. This was an absolute polar opposite. But she couldn't dwell on that now, for Jason had just started passing around glasses.

She took a sip from the golden liquid, expecting beer, but was rather surprised. She wasn't hesitant to voice her thoughts, "This is apple juice." Jason shrugged.

"We were all out of Sam Adams." he replied.

"But this is good apple juice." Will added. He raised his glass, "Here's to…whatever the hell people toast to!" We clinked glasses, but the uneasiness about the events that were to occur tomorrow night still hung thick in the air.


	21. Chapter 21

**(A/N) I am totally sorry for not updating sooner, it's just that where I live we've been having a lot of confusion with all of the snow and stuff, so obviously teachers feel the need to cram in as much homework as possible so that we're learning. I mean really now. FREAKING FINLAND (YOU FINNISH PEOPLE ARE AWESOME) HAVE NO HOMEWORK AND THEIR GRADES ARE HIGHER THAN OURS. I CALL THAT THE US PULLS A FINLAND AND BANS ALL HOMEWORK!**

**Sorry if this chapter is a little short.**

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot and none of the characters besides Drusilla. **

The clouds hung low over the entire city, the gloom sifting and swirling like a procession of lost souls. Will gazed around warily, wondering what demons lurked inside them, but didn't think much about it. The battle was looming ahead like the walls of a fortress, with barbed wire and spikes to top it all off. Sure, there was little chance that he and the others would survive this, but it was a risk he was willing to take, but only because his boyfriend would be devastated if Percy died. Any friend of Nico's was automatically a friend of Will's, and even a fallen messenger angel was no exception.

On a personal level, though, he had no connection to Percy whatsoever. In fact, he had been rather uneasy around him when he'd first arrived. Annabeth had forced him to give the captured fallen angel regular check-ups, but he didn't feel like working all too hard on him; he was immortal, after all. There was also the fact that he seemed to notice how his form was withering while others didn't. Will automatically knew that it was the after-effects of some sort of serious drug, but he knew that if he asked questions it would become some sort of drama, and Percy kind of freaked him out as well.

Though in his heart he was suffering from one emotion when asked of how he felt about Percy; utter guilt. If he'd actually put effort into those check-ups, they wouldn't be in this situation. He could have caught it early; put an end to it before it could become a major problem. But no, he had to discriminate against a creature that looked and spoke and moved like a normal person, who was so clearly suffering just because he was of divine nature. Will couldn't help but feel like all of this was his fault; that he was the one to blame for Percy's condition. He had to distract himself with something or someone, namely Nico.

Will threw his arm around the fallen angel's waist and he heard the shorter boy's breathing hitch in surprise. The blonde knew that Nico was insecure about his sexuality, that he was quick to cover it up and keep it a well-guarded secret, but even he knew that society was changing, bit by bit. The Golden Swords, Jason, and Percy didn't seem to mind it, and neither did anyone else who saw the two holding hands in public. Nico had been an angel since the beginning of time, though, and in Heaven Will could bet that homosexuality was not illegal but still frowned upon, so it was probably instinct to bottle it up and conceal it.

"Move faster, lovebirds!" he heard Leo exclaim with a chuckle, but it was friendly and not at all mocking. Nico made a face that resembled Grumpy Cat's and Will had to slap his hand across his mouth to prevent himself from laughing.

"What's so funny?" Nico asked sternly, and it was really hard to look angry when he was just short enough where Will had to look down a little to make eye contact.

"It's just…nothing." the blonde replied, nonchalantly waving it off with one hand. Nico frowned but didn't say anything else. The group walked in silence for a while, the dark gloom draping over them like a blanket and obscuring anything that wasn't two feet or less in front of you. In fact, Will could barely even see Nico's face, and that's when he realized that the others were nowhere in sight. He heard their footsteps, but he couldn't see them. Occasionally he could make out a flash of blond locks or the back of a sneaker, but for the most part the rest of the group were just dark disturbances in the thick fog. Was the haze really becoming that dense? Nico didn't seem to be nervous in the least, probably because with his fallen angel vision he could see almost anything. He could withstand really bright light that could sear the eyeballs of any mortal who tried to gaze upon it or he could see through the darkest darkness that anyone would be stumbling and tripping blindly through.

"We're close." Nico announced, his voice very low. Despite that, it sounded like someone had fired a bullet through the silence, ripping through it as if it were solid.

"How can you tell?" the uneasy voice of Jason asked somewhere in front of us.

"I can feel it." was all Nico told him in reply. At first Will thought it was just some sort of strange and odd fallen angel ability, but as he really thought about it, he realized that he could feel it too. All of the voices in his mind were screaming, _"Go back! Go back!" _and his mental alarm's cacophonous blare was resounding through his skull. His hairs began to stand on end and his skin began to tingle as if he were cold, despite the fact that he was appropriately dressed in layers. Then came the queasiness. The more he walked, the more Will's stomach began to twist into unnatural shapes. It was like a horror movie, when you knew something was going to happen but you didn't know what. Only this time, it was all too real.

Will fumbled for his knife and kept his trembling fingers gripped tightly around the handle, so tightly, in fact, that his knuckles began to turn white. Nico, being the calm one, didn't seem affected by the strange and awful feeling that were being afflicted on everyone else, though he had gone rather pale and his dark brown eyes darted around like a cornered animal's.

"She's here." Will thought he heard Nico whisper.

"What was that?" the blonde asked, but just as he said that that fog cleared, revealing that they were just at the edge of Seraph Road. The fog still hung thick all around them, but they could see the entire street spread before them, disappearing into the gloom. The vacant homes lay uninhabited and dead, like skeletons. With broken windows, cracked and peeling paint, boarded up doors, and slight tilt, these once live building were far from stable. Graffiti tattooed their sides, the names of gangsters and Candymen streaked across the walls like wounds. The color from the spray paint had long since dulled and the letters and pictures, which were very inappropriate, mind you, had been smeared and smudged by the elements and covered with dirt, grime, and dust.

Will involuntarily gulped. He felt eyes peering at them throng the windows; unwelcome gazes scanning their every move and watching to see what they would do. In the distance Will could hear a muted music, but that was just from the Whisper, which lay only a few buildings down. Annabeth, who was finally visible like the others, squared her shoulders and put on her best poker face, but Will could see her shaking hands resting on her holster. She motioned us forward and we began to walk down the paved road, which was riddled with cracks like a spider vast spider web. Nobody in the town had enough money to have a car, with the people that did usually just driving through or lost, and the sidewalk was crumbling and windswept.

Their footsteps rang out into the night, echoing and dying out like a silenced scream. The thrum of the bass in the Whisper began to become louder as they approached. Will's gaze traveled from the worn sign over the club to the warehouse next to it. It looked more battered than any of the other building on the road. It was constructed out of crumbling red bricks, which probably had some sort of luster, but had become a dull maroon color. Its door was left ajar, revealing shadows that seemed to creep towards them like the damned reaching out, whispering, _"Save us. Save us." _At that moment Will knew that Drusilla had known of their arrival. The others seemed to be processing it too, and they all exchanged anxious glances.

Jason, collecting himself, closed his eyes and slipped inside. Everyone else hesitated, but the ex-Golden Swords member was soon followed by Annabeth, then Leo, then Nico, then Gwen, until only will and Dakota were left standing outside. Dakota gave will a quick once-over and said, in a voice that sounded uncharacteristically sober, "Good luck." And with that, he disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse. Will took a deep breath and thought of pleasant things and not the queen on Hell that was waiting for him on the other side of the threshold. With a vain attempt at gathering his courage, he reluctantly followed.

The others were waiting for him inside, the shadows from their flashlights dancing on their faces and shedding pale yellow circles of light onto the cracked and crumbling stone floor. The warehouse was huge, and thin slivers of moonlight cast silvery-white squares onto the procession as they crossed the floor, making their way to two shadowy figures that had been waiting for them. Will was trembling all over, and he tried to prevent it from showing, but he nearly lost it when a smooth, rich feminine voice said, "Welcome, mortals. We've been expecting you." The electrical lights, which should have been broken and out of order, blazed to life and all hell broke loose.


End file.
